


Love Is A Strange Hotel

by Dillian



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bruce Banner and Tony Stark Friendship, Bruce and Hulk, Eventual Threesome, Loki's Machinations, Love Triangle, M/M, Magic Chained, Multi, The Trickster Manages to Cause Trouble Anyway, Threesome - M/M/Other, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-11-22 03:34:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 74,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/605386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dillian/pseuds/Dillian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short summary:  This is a story where everyone starts by pushing each other way, and ends up by living happily ever after.  It's a story where Loki has to work for his happy ending, because you shouldn't be able to go around calling people "puny mortals" and trying to kill them and such, and then immediately get welcomed back and loved by the Avengers.  And Tony has to work for his too, because being rich, talented and charismatic shouldn't automatically get you everything you want.</p><p>It's also a story with a major Hulk-rampage in it.  But that's not for a while.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thor's "Boon"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With repairs still ongoing on the Tower, and everyone already crowded together on the floor where Management used to be, the last thing Tony Stark needs is the God of Chaos as his new guest.

“You see the walls are cracked,  
The pain is thin,  
And you can't turn back, no  
Once you've checked in.  
The whole town laughing at the ringing of the bell.  
You see everybody knows that love is a strange hotel.”   
– Darden Smith and Boo Hewerdine

 

**_The Avengers_ , and _Thor_ , and all situations and characters thereof, belong strictly and solely to Marvel Comics. This is a fan-work, meant for enjoyment only, and not for any material profit.**

It's a matter of planning: You build your towers big enough, you'll still have someplace to stay even after an alien invasion. Tony's staying in the floor where the executives used to be. You want to talk about a bunch of pussies: The damage is all to the _top_ floor, but “Oh My God no, we can't work out of here, not until the _whole_ building's been repaired!” And Pepper backs them up. She says it will _hurt Stark Enterprise's standing on the big board._ And god forbid we should do that, right? I mean who doesn't live and die over the ratings some number-crunchers might give your company?

So yeah. So the business division is all moved over to Stark-Virginia for the duration, and Tony's got the tower to himself. There's this Second Vice-President in Charge of Outsourcing (which by the way, sounds like a pretty damn redundant position, and he'll have to talk to Pep about outsourcing _him_ ) who's got a marble-lined shower _and_ a King-sized bed in his office. That's where Tony's staying. Basically camping out, in other words. A couple of the Avengers have stuck around too. Steve's down the hall next to the weight-room, because he wants to be sure Manhattan gets fixed alright. And Bruce is there because...

Well, Bruce is there because Tony _wants_ him there. He didn't put it that way of course. He was all “Ohhh, there's so much _suffering_ here, Bruce,” and “ohhh, let's go _explore the lab_ , Bruce,” and like that, but that's just because the guy likes to run. You can't really blame him. He's used to having half the military on his ass all the time, trying to get at the Hulk. If they're not trying to kill him, they're trying to experiment on him. Seems they can't decide if one giant green rage-monster is too many, or if they want an army of them. ...So yeah, so the guy's got some serious trust-issues. Tony's just barely talked him around to getting used to the idea that they're friends now. He hasn't brought up yet, that he wants to be more than that.

It's because he likes fixing things, probably: Broken machines, broken code sequences: He looks at them, and it's the potential he sees, and then after that, he starts thinking what he'll need to do to make them work right again. Bruce is chock-full of potential. There's that genius-brain of his, and the way the physics-knowledge connects up with Tony's tech-knowledge so they're like two parts of a perfect whole. ...Oh, and there's the way he smiles sometimes (not nearly often enough) and his brown eyes light up. And the way that one lock of hair's always falling across his face, so all Tony wants to do is get close enough to push it away. – Okay, so that's not _all_ he wants to do if he gets close enough...

The main room for their little _temporary living-space_ used to be the office for the Accounting Department. Tony's had all the cubicles and shit moved out. He's re-furnished the place with the furniture from upstairs, which makes it ...almost cozy (only there's no windows, because it's in the middle of the building). 

Bruce insisted he only needed this little Secretary-office down from the bathroom, but Tony talked him into taking a corner office where yet another Vice-President used to be. That's where they are when Thor shows up. Bruce is just buttoning his shirt after a shower, and Tony's ~~having filthy, filthy ideas about _un_ buttoning it again~~ sitting on the bed drinking coffee, while Steve makes breakfast for them all in the kitchen.

“Good morrow Friend Bruce! – And Friend Tony, you are here too!” Thor’s voice basically echoes off the walls. It's way too early for a voice like that. It's also too early for people to be appearing in the middle of the room in a crack of thunder.

“Yeah I'm here, Thor.” Tony takes a sip from his cup. Then he takes a gulp. Caffeine helps when you're dealing with Asgardians. “Just little old me here in Bruce's bed, like the Big Bad Wolf in Red Riding Hood.”

“Wolves?” A confused look from everyone's favorite Warrior-God. “They trouble you in Manhattan? On Asgard they do not enter the cities.”

“It's from a story.” Bruce adjusts the cuffs on the shirt (that Tony's still trying to get him to replace with something _not_ from Mervyns). He rolls his eyes. “Tony thinks it's funny: Oh Grandma, what a big pe...”

Somehow coming from him, it _doesn't_ sound like the best come-on in the world. “Yeah yeah, exactly. Right,” he interrupts before Bruce can tell Thor all his pick-up lines. “I keep trying, and Bruce keeps turning me down.” – Am impatient snort. Bruce, meanwhile, loading his pockets with keys, coins, and probably the entire Encyclopedia Britannica. Getting him to think about how he looks: Impossible! – “I'm gonna win though. It's just a matter of time.”

“Indeed.” Thor sounds mystified. “I am very sure my friend Tony will prevail in whatever endeavors he pursues. But it was not of wolves and grandmothers that I wished to speak...”

“And it was not in my bedroom that _I_ wanted to speak.” Is that the stink-eye Bruce is giving him? Ouch. “So if certain people will get off my bed...” He's out the door and leading the way to the kitchen. “We can talk while we have breakfast. – Good morning, Captain.” Steve gets a smile that's completely relaxed and open (unlike the ones Bruce has been giving Tony). 

And Tony's reduced to following behind and protesting. ...And maybe pouting a little. “No fair, Bruce. How come you're always nice to him and not me?”

“Because I know the meaning of 'personal space'.” Cap shoves a plate heaped with pancakes into each of their hands. “And because I do the cooking around here. Everyone's nice to the cook.” He looks up at Thor in the doorway. “Good morning, Thor. I don't think I made enough pancakes for you.”

“That is all right Friend Steve, because I did not come here to eat.” Thor makes no protest as Steve shoves the last plate of pancakes into his hand regardless. “I came because I have a boon to request of Tony.” Thor also makes no protest as Tony pours coffee for him: Three spoonsful of sugar, and fill the cup halfway with cream. Asgardians don't like coffee, they just like their dessert coffee-flavored.

Tony takes a spot at the table. He grabs the maple syrup and drenches his plate (because billionaire playboys like their dessert pancake-flavored). “So Thor, what's this 'boon' you want?”

The big guy looks at him. Then he looks down at his plate. “Well it has to do with my brother.” The words _crawl_ out, like Thor's afraid to say them.

And by rights he should be. “Loki? Seriously?” 

“You're joking, right Thor?” Steve gives him a look.

“What's the boon?” As for Bruce, he looks nervous, like he's thinking about the last time he saw Loki. ...Or rather, the last time _Hulk_ saw him.

“My brother has expressed a desire to assist in repair of the damage he caused here.” Thor looks down at his plate. He mumbles so for once, you can barely hear him. “I ...er, Father has sent him with me. He awaits only your approval ere he enters.”

Their approval. Ri-iii-iii-iight. Steve looks at Bruce, and then Bruce looks at Tony. And then they all glare at the Asgardian, who apparently can't see why someone _wouldn't_ want his mass-murdering war-criminal brother around the house.

“Pray do not refuse too quickly.” 

Oh, they'll refuse, all right!

“My brother means only to help.”

And Tony believes that like he believes that Disney's going to buy rights to the Avengers.

“We have taken precautions to ensure he does no harm.”

“What is that?” All of a sudden Steve's expression changes, like he's... Like he's actually considering the idea for a change. Oh crap. “What kind of precautions?”

“Steve, you can’t be serious.” 

Bruce doesn't say anything. He just rubs his nose and picks at the sleeve of his shirt.

“Friend Steven, you are a comrade indeed!” It's only the pancakes that keep Thor in his seat, instead of up and across the room hugging Steve tight. “You will not regret this, I assure you.”

Yeah. Right.

“Father has had bracelets crafted. They block Loki's ability to do magic, and they can be removed by All-Father only. – I believe my brother to be truly sincere,” he says, with that wonderful Asgardian innocence of his, “else why would he agree to wear them?”

“Well it could be because he doesn't like the alternatives.” Now that it's about logic, Bruce joins in. “What happens to him if he stays on Asgard, Thor?”

“Oh, then he must do hard labor on the Bifröst.” For once, Thor's voice is grim. “Do not think we ignore what Loki has done, my friends. He must serve fit punishment wherever he is.”

“So in other words, it's hard labor here, or it's hard labor there.” Steve's nod is thoughtful.

“Only this way we actually get to see him working his ass off.” Bruce is actually grinning a little bit. Holy crap, have the whole bunch of them gone crazy?

“My tower, my rules.” Tony interrupts because he's got to, before every super-villain in the Universe gets parked here. The next thing you know, he's going to be bellying up for breakfast alongside Dr. Doom and the Red Skull. “No Reindeer Games. No super-villains period, not now, not ever. – Sorry, Thor.”

“No, but don't you see? This could work, Tony.” That's enthusiasm he sees on Bruce's face, isn't it? Dammit to fuckin' hell... “Steve will make sure he actually works, – Won't you, Cap? – and we've got JARVIS here to keep him from escaping and causing more damage. Wouldn't you like to see Loki do an honest day's work for once?”

Well, when you put it that way... – When _Bruce_ puts it that way...

“It's not our decision to make.” He's grasping at straws here, and he knows it. But dammit, who gets their house destroyed, and then they turn around and invite the guy who did it to come stay awhile? “We're going to have to run this by Fury.”

“SHIELD. Really.” A snort from Steve. “Aren't you the one who says they don't run your life? That you're a – What is it... – A 'free agent'?”

“Dammit Steve, you don't seriously want him here? Remember how he tried to turn us all against each other when he was here before? – Bruce, don't you remember the things he said about you?”

“I do.” Bruce's grin turns positively predatory. There's more Hulk in him than he likes to think. “That's what I like about this: The Other Guy got his revenge when Loki was here before. Now it's my turn.”

Tony huffs an irritated breath. He knows when he's lost. “Okay, fine. But only because you asked so nice. – Bruce, what'll you give me to say thank-you'?”

“Well I promise not to Hulk out and destroy the rest of your tower. – Today anyway.” A soft laugh destroys all the rest of Tony's objections. Dammit, Bruce is actually having fun with this.

“If Fury finds out, he’ll sic the entire SHIELD force on us.” It's a weak protest, just a grumble really. Tony huffs another sigh. “Okay Thor, bring on Reindeer Games. – You'll make more pancakes for him, won't you Cap?”

“Yeah, so he can turn up his nose and call them 'pathetic mortal food' or something.” Steve laughs. – Christ, all his friends are fuckin' nuts this morning! They don't seem to get how toxic Loki's going to be, magic or no magic. “Sure,” he says. “I'll make 'em.”

“And I will summon my brother.” Thor's got tears in his eyes. – Actual tears! – “Thank you my friends,” he says. “You do not know how much it means, that you are willing to give my brother this chance.”

A moment later, – No clap of thunder or anything. – and Loki stands there. He looks ...just as evil as he ever did. No scratch that, Tony thinks: He looks ever so slightly less evil. He's still got that drowned cat look, like he hasn't eaten or gotten a decent night's sleep in a year, but there was a crazy glint in his eyes before, like wherever he looked, he just saw targets for attack. That's not there now. Instead, he just looks sulky, like a little brother who doesn't want his big brother watching while he gets in trouble. Which is pretty much what he is, isn't it?

“Are you reduced to this part of your tower then, Mr. Stark?” A snide look comes over Loki's face as he surveys the room. “Do tell me you are afraid I will throw you from the window again if we are upstairs?”

Some people can pull off a stern expression. Thor's not one of them. He just looks sad, and a little disappointed. “The damage you caused to the penthouse has yet to be repaired,” he says.

A quick flash of something – Shame? Embarrassment? – goes across Loki's face. Then his same old snooty expression is back. “You may leave, Thunderer. There is no need for you to be here.”

“On the contrary, there is every need.” Now the Captain on the other hand... Stern fits him like a glove. They must have been better at those things in his day. “We invited Thor to stay for breakfast. We're his _friends_. You can have some breakfast too, if you want it.”

“I don’t need your pathetic mortal food.” Loki snorts (and Tony would totally want to high-five Cap for nailing him so perfectly, only what are you going to do? He's on the other side of the kitchen). “Do I look hungry to you?”

Well yeah, actually he does...

“Aren't you an ungrateful little brat though?” Stern-Cap is kind of awesome. He completely ignores every word Loki says, and just slams a plate onto the table and says, “sit.”

Evil look from Loki's green eyes, and the usual snooty snort. “Like I am a dog!” He sits though, and starts hacking away at the pancakes like he's got a personal grudge against them. “Mother's are better,” he says, but only after he's finished the whole plateful. And while he's holding out his empty plate for more.

“Brother...” That's Thor's warning-voice. Poor guy, how long's it going to take for him to realize he's not going to make a human being out of his brother no matter how many warnings he gives him? Some people are just assholes. ...Of course that's what everyone's always said about him too... As soon as he thinks it, Tony pushes the thought away. He is _not_ going to start feeling sorry for Thor's war-criminal brother!

“No more pancakes for bad little Asgardians, unless they say please,” Steve carols out. “Now Loki, would you like to try that again?”

The mutters from his new green-eyed guest tell Tony exactly _where_ Steve can stick his please-es. And _how_. He can't help a snicker. “I don't even think that's possible, Reindeer Games.”

Nasty Loki-smile. “It would be without the bracelets.” He turns back to the Captain. “Yes, _please_ , Mr. Rogers sir, I will have more of your _delicious_ pancakes.” Then back to Thor: “Does that please you, Thunderer? You may report back to Odin that I am behaving appropriately.”

“Here you are.” Cap's got the plate all ready for him. “And would you like some coffee too? – Oh, and Mr. Rogers is my dad's name. I answer to Steve.” 

“...Or Cap. Or 'hey you, old guy!'” Tony pours a cup of coffee (even though he's not sure Loki needs to be any _more_ wired). “Your brother puts cream and sugar in his,” he says, handing it over.

“Oh really?” The snooty tone's still there, but it looks like Loki's relaxed a little. Tony's not sure why he cares, – There's a reason people don't take in super-villains like they're puppies: Just when you start getting used to them, they go hatching evil plans, and you have to kick their asses all over again. – but he does ….sort of. “That is how my so-called brother likes his 'coffee'? Is there another way to drink it?”

From Bruce: “Black.” He catches Tony's eye and grins, and dammit, but Hulk's Other Guy's got some evil thoughts in him. He's starting his revenge right off. “And as hot as you can get it.” 

Loki drinks. He spits the coffee right back out again in a sort of mini-explosion and then glares daggers at Bruce, who is meanwhile, laughing like hell. Then he takes another drink. His comment is, “your mortal 'coffee' is quite good,” but his eyes say, _you can't best me this easily, Midgardians_.

Yeah, life just got a whole lot more complicated.


	2. Thor's "Boon"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is he sorry to see Loki humiliated, after the merciless way he taunted them all when he was here before? No, Bruce thinks, he is not.

“A mask.”

“Keeps the mold out of your lungs,” Steve says. “Put it on.”

“I hardly think I am susceptible to your mortal contagions.”

“Maybe not, but the rest of us are. You're not bringing home a bug so we can catch it from you.”

You have to hand it to Steve, he's found probably _the_ most humiliating clean-up job in New York: Loki's all decked out in a jumpsuit and rubber gloves – With a _shower cap_ over his hair; that's enough to make you laugh right there. – and Steve's brought him to this elementary school over by Gracie Square Hospital. It just caught the corner-edge of the invasion, but that was enough to start a fire, and then that set off all the sprinklers in the building, and now the entire interior's got to be ripped out before it can renovated for use. 

Loki looks evilly at him. – You can tell he's thinking that he'd love nothing better than to bring a “bug” home (and maybe wondering a little bit what exactly a “bug” is).

“Better not risk it,” Tony chirps. “That's what brought down the aliens in _War of the Worlds_.” 

Thor chimes in: “This is surely better than fixing the Bifrost.” 

“What is this place?” Loki looks around. “A school? And you remove the bracelets, I could have it repaired and full of children again in mere seconds.”

“Yeah, and a few seconds later you'd have them all kneeling to you. Right.” Steve waves over this big guy with a beer-belly. “Loki, meet Pete,” he says. “Pete, here's another guy to help you with the clean-up.”

“Great.” A huge snort from Pete, as he swaggers over. “Look at him, like a scrawny chicken that's just been plucked. Why does my team always get the noobs?” He heaves a big sigh. “Oh well... C'mere, Malik. Got someone here to help you clean out the Kindergarten wing.”

“What, this skinny little white boy?” The black guy's already been working half the morning, and there are people who would pay to see Loki's expression when he throws a sweaty arm around his shoulder. “You sure this isn't one of the schoolkids?”

“We need all the help we can get.” Pete, still grumbling. “Even skinny noobs that can't lift a feather.”

“I can lift...” 

Now they've seen him settled, they can leave, right? He's due at the hospital, and Steve's got his team of super-heroes (Reed Richards, Ben Grimm, and some kid named Parker) who are doing the big clean-up work over on the Upper West Side. ...And didn't Tony say something about a board meeting?

“Guys,” he says, “let's go.”

Nobody moves.

Meanwhile: “What was that?” Malik's brave. If he knew who's head that was he was knuckling... – Or if Loki didn't have those bracelets on, and he could do something about it. “White boy say something?”

“I said I can lift more than you can, you vile standing-tuck.”

“Hey guys!” This time Bruce raises his voice a little. “You want to stay here all morning?”

“Kind of. Maybe. – You realize the alternative's a board meeting.” Tony Stark, who always has all the time in the world, and never lets reality get in the way of his fun.

“Well Dr. Vang's expecting me at 10:00.”

“Yeah.” Acknowledgment – Finally! – from Steve. “And I told Hank Pym I'd meet him by the Central Park Gardens.” –

A snort from Tony. “Because being able to turn really really tiny is _so useful_ when you're cleaning up really really big messes?”

“Because everyone should do their part to help the community. You ought to come too, Tony. We could swing by the tower and get your suit.”

“No wait, I want to watch this.” Tony gestures, to the door of the school, and Malik carrying out two desks with a roll of carpet on top. Behind him, Loki, piled so high with desks, computers, and carpeting that his face is invisible. “I wonder if it's too late to place a bet.”

Then Loki reaches out and lifts Malik as well. 

“It's too late,” Steve says. “Now come on, Tony. Your fellow super-heroes are waiting.”

“Fine, fine, whatever.”

As they turn away, Bruce hears Malik's shout: “Pete, we got a bona-fide super-hero working here!” _Super-villain please,_ or _I am a god, you puny mortal_... His lips twitch, as he pictures Loki's potential responses, but he doesn't stay around to hear them. That super-hero/super-villain stuff's a bunch of crap, take it from the guy who's both, depending who gets in his way and really pisses him off. It's the folks like Dr. Vang, working for less than they're worth, for patients that wouldn't get care at all without them, who are the real heroes. As for the villains: Well that's anyone that gets in their way. Forget the Avengers, it's at the hospital that he feels like a hero as well...

“You say Parker's gonna be there?” Tony's conversation just barely intrudes on his thoughts. “Maybe he can put in a good word for me at Horizon. Modell won't return my calls.”

“Wait. My brother...” Only Thor's still holding them up. He stares back toward the school, and Loki, nonchalantly coming out with an entire wall-cabinet under his arm while Malik watches. “Are you sure he'll be all right here?”

“All right?” A laugh from Steve. “He's got his own fanclub-of-one. That's more fans than I ever thought Loki would get.”

“But is there risk of contagion? What are these 'molds' of which you spoke?” 

They're at Tony's car by now. – Only Tony Stark. Typical of him, that he's got to have a car in Manhattan. And not just any car mind: It's got to be this tiny James Bond-looking convertible with the top down, so all the rain and snow can get in. – “He's _fine_.” Steve opens the door, jerking his chin Thor's way. “He's _immune to our mortal bugs_ , remember?”

“Unless you think he'll try something?” Tony slides into the driver's seat. Patting the spot next to him, “Come on Bruce,” he says. “There's room for two.” A leer. “I've got it all warm for you.”

Only Tony Stark. This flirting-thing he does is just one more game for him. “There's a subway stop right by the hospital.”

“My brother has purposes of his own, I am sure.” Thor is still in the middle of the sidewalk looking back. “I would feel more comfortable...”

“If you are going to stay, offer to help out,” Steve says. “I've seen the interior of the school. And there's a Middle School and a High School down the block that are just as bad.”

“And ask that Malik to get a picture of you in cleanup gear and post it to his Instagram.” Tony snerks. “I promise I won't use it for blackmail.”

“Malik's going to switch all his fanboy-ing over to the new super-hero in town,” he says as he starts the car. ”Poor little Loki'll get his fee-fees hurt.”

The car pulls away in a spurt of gravel, leaving Bruce on the sidewalk. Tony was humorous about it of course, because that's how he is, but it occurs to him to think that yeah, if he were Loki, he might get his feelings hurt too. How does it feel to always be second-best to somebody like Thor? ...And now he doesn't even have his magic any more to make them even.

...A good thing he doesn't, he thinks, because he'd just be hatching some evil scheme again if he did. The subway entrance is just up ahead, and he's early enough that he can grab a coffee at the Starbucks across the street and still make his train. Bruce puts the new houseguest and his sibling rivalry problems out of his mind and picks up his pace.


	3. Exile on Midgard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No magic, no dignity, and precious little recognition: Loki adjusts to life as a mortal.

Filth, and stench, and the loud voices of Midgardian rabble who are not, in their mortal way, so very different from the Aesir. Ere the Thunderer had been with the work-party for half an hour, his coterie of admirers had formed. The large one, Pete: Volstaggian in appetite as well as in bulk (as he proved when their meal arrived at noontime), is Volstaggian in servility as well, and after the work finally ended for the day, it was his suggestion that the work-party adjourn to a nearby tavern. Malik, happy in the realization that he works now with a _real super-hero_ , joined with alacrity as well as, thereafter, the rest of the group.

“You're welcome too, Loki.” A slight hesitation to his voice of course. “Just – You know. – no more of that bullshit about being better than all of us.”

“Better”? Ah no, perish the thought. That he should be “better” than a lot of ignorant mortals, whose lives will be over ere he blinks? – That he should have anything more important to do than to play hail-fellow-well-met with them at their drinking place, with the stink of beer and the noise of mortal crowds on all sides? Far be it from the God of Lies to say any such thing!

A _god_... That a god should be reduced to such. Thor of course, has no qualms. He would eat with the veriest pigs, if the food were good enough. “Pray come, brother,” he says. “It will be like old times. – Remember the evenings we'd spend at The Three Tuns?”

Oh yes, _those_ evenings. The ones where his _friends_ would make sport of Loki for having been beaten in yet another pretend-combat on the practice-fields, and forget that he'd saved their miserable lives again and again, using his spells for them in actual battle. ...The ones where a man was judged for his noise and his vulgarity, and not for the subtlety of his mind.

“How in the world could I forget, Thor?” he murmurs, like the good brother and well-behaved member of this new Midgardian paradise that he is. “Indeed, the impression they made was indelible. But I am slightly tired. I believe I would like to rest.”

“You would return to the tower?” Ah Thor, always so quick on the uptake. “Let me escort you, brother.”

Good “brother” that he is, he is eager to show off that _he_ still has his powers, with a demonstration of Mjolnir.

“Never mind, Thor.” Whence the meekness of his voice? The mild pleasantness with which the Sly One speaks? He has learned it over years, over centuries and millennia of practice with being in his “brother's” shadow, while these mortals fathers' fathers' grew and spawned, and died and mouldered in their shallow graves. Brave smile with just the hint of friendliness: “If I am to live here, I had better learn to negotiate Midgardian subways.”

Loki turns away and, as always, there are no calls of farewell, no friendly requests that he stay and bear them company.

People crowd the sidewalks all around him, as he proceeds to the subway entrance. Always, in this city, the mortals mass everywhere. Loki is surrounded by noise, and rudeness, and _smell_. – He is a little surprised that Thor did not stop him as he left. He is “the war-criminal Loki”. Does Odin's emissary not fear for what he will do alone? Apparently though, Pete and Malik and the others, with their free-drinking ways and their enthusiastic admiration, are enough to distract him. It is almost enough to make the Sly One cause some chaos, just to remind him of his duties. But no, of course he cannot do that, for how quickly he would be back on Asgard under All-Father's eyes if he so much as tried. Instead, he must behave. As always, it is the Golden One only, who may shirk his responsibilities, and never his younger, lesser “brother”.

The crowding on the sidewalks is nothing to the crowding below-ground. People shove past without a word, or with muttered rudenesses. Loki finds himself turned around, and pushed different ways half a hundred times, ere he so much as leaves the stairs, and once there, he finds himself on a walk where more people shove by, and with no idea of what he should do next. There are people in profusion. There are metal gates, but of what lies behind them, there is no clue. There are square, boxlike, Midgardian “machines”. As he watches, people go to these. They insert ...something, and get ...But what is it they are getting in return? None, of course, would care to give him that information.

It is finally to one of the uniformed men Midgardians call “policemen”, that he goes, asking assistance. This, he is given, not with kindness (much less the respect he deserves), but with condescending bemusement, that there should exist one so ignorant as not to know it already. Faugh, and his armies had been successful, he had ruled this man. He would have been obligated to kneel, before his rightful King. Instead, and with many patronizing comments, he shows Loki to one of the “machines”, and instructs him in how to use the green slips of paper “money” Thor has provided him, to obtain the tickets that will allow him transport. 

How low he has sunk, Loki thinks, as he fights past the crowds, – And resists the temptation to strike, maim, or kill, any of those who shove past him; yes, All-Father, he is being _good_. – and onto the correct “train”, that will take him back to his temporary home at Stark Tower. Again of course, mortals crowd him on all sides. The noise is clamorous, the smell, _indescribable_. Silence, oh sweet silence: How he longs for just a moment of pure silence! 

And yet even at the tower, it is not to be vouchsafed him. Loki enters the main living room, feeling the weight of worlds and a lifetime of bitterness upon him, only to find the one called Bruce (the one with the beast inside him) already in residence.

“Loki.” Of course he does not look pleased to see him. Bruce sits on the huge, ridiculous sofa that suits Stark's garish taste so well. He has a sandwich in his hand, and a glass of some bubbling beverage on the table in front of him. “I wasn't expecting you back so soon.” A smile curves his lips, but the edges are tense. Oho, so it is not anger but fear, the good Doctor is feeling? “You hungry? Steve's going to be late, but I can help you find the stuff for a sandwich.”

“I’m not hungry.” The rejection is automatic, fueled by his need for quiet. “You eat to live, it is a testament to your mortality only. I have no need of such.”

“Sure.” Bruce eyes him over the book in his lap. His expression is just faintly tense.

This is the one with the monster in him. Loki called him “mindless” when he was here before, but in truth, it was a taunt only. Barton told him enough about Bruce that he knows his intellect is sufficient, possibly formidable even. He is not here right now because of his intellect, however. He is here, very surely, as a guard. And he talks, when Loki would desire quiet: “How was work?”

“Pointless.” Perhaps he can drive the good doctor away, if he is nasty enough. Midgardians, he has found, are sensitive to such. “You cry over a few broken desks and some ruined carpets in one school, and yet all over your pathetic planet, there are children with no school at all to attend. Irrationally, you care only about the needs of those most like you, and then you cry shame on me for doing the same thing.”

“No arguments here.” Ah yes, but that's right: _Doctor_ Banner has made a practice of helping the less fortunate, has he not? “But you have to start somewhere. How many people have you helped – Really helped. – in your life so far, Loki?”

He has helped his brother. How many times has he saved both him and his lunkhead friends from sure death on the battlefield, with a well-placed incantation? He would have helped Asgard as well. Indeed, it was Thor who stopped him, just as he was about to end the Frost Giant threat once and for all. And for this, he is considered a villain, while his brother...

“Did I not come to help your people?” He smiles, his expression nasty in the way he knows will be most disturbing to a Midgardian. “I came to save all of you, and how was I treated? Truly, mortals are not irrational merely, but ungrateful as well. – As you should know, Dr. Banner.”

Bruce's eyes narrow behind his glasses, and Loki feels a surge of pleasure. The good doctor will think twice before intruding on his privacy again.

He keeps his voice silky. “Your green beast came about only because you tried to help another of your kind, is that not so? And yet you have been pursued. – Hounded, really.” Useful indeed, the knowledge that Barton gave him. “Why do you unleash the beast, Doctor, to help those who would have killed you both with their experimentation?”

Bruce has visibly paled now. _Good_. “Loki, I understand this is a bad situation for you, but I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t take it out on me. I’ve had a pretty intense day myself, and I'd like to relax and clear my head a little.”

Oho, so he's had an _intense_ day? He would like to _clear his head_? What clamors inside your head to be let out, Dr. Banner?

An interruption is needed. Loki would not be pounded flat by the beast as he was before. “I wish to bathe.” He looks to the hallway outside the door of their living area. “Does a usable bathroom still exist in this monument to Stark's ego?”

The snort from Bruce is barely audible, as are his words: “I wouldn't be talking about ego if I were you.”

Irritation flares, but he swallows it. “You were saying?”

“I said we've been using the one in Tony's room. It's a shower, but it's a pretty big one. If you don't want to go in there, there's a decontamination shower in the lab on the seventh floor.”

The “shower” is black marble with gold fittings, and huge, clear glass walls that leave him exposed in his nakedness on two sides. All it will take is for Stark to return home. He is sure to enter his room and Loki will have to listen to more of his badinage. Almost, he had rather seek out the “decontamination shower” on the seventh floor which at least, by its inconvenient location, would more likely give the privacy he craves.

“Tell Stark to stay out.” Brusque order, it is also an appeal.

“No problem.” Bruce pulls fluffy-looking towels from a cabinet next to the sink. He turns to Loki, his face unreadable. “I'm sure he doesn't want to see you naked.”

It has the sound of an insult. And why pray tell would Stark be so sure not to want to? His reputation says he is indiscriminate enough with his attentions. There is no connection surely, for these Midgardians have never been to Jotunheimr, but still the image flashes through his mind of a Jotun visage, a Jotun body. And that he were completely naked, and uncovered of the protective illusions Odin placed on him in his infancy, that would be his appearance also. Who then would ever want to look at him again? 

“I am sure you would know.” As always when he feels hurt, it is his words that give protection. “In your other form, nudity is uncontrollable, is it not? – Tell me, how does Stark feel about _that_ body, Doctor Banner?”

Sole response he receives is a sigh. “If you want to show Tony Stark your naked body, feel free, Loki. He'll be interested for maybe five minutes, then he'll be on to somebody else just like he always is. I'll introduce you to a lady named Pepper Potts, if you want to know how that story goes. If you want your privacy like most of us though, here:” He indicates button on the doorknob. “That's how you lock the door.”

“I am glad to know you mortals have some faint understanding of modesty.” It is a weak retort.

Loki shoves the door shut and locks it, as Bruce leaves. The room is blessedly quiet, empty, and private with the privacy he has been craving since he got here. With hurried movements, he strips off the dirty, scratchy mortal clothing he has been forced to wear all day. He removes the heavy, clod-hopping shoes, – No magic remains to do the task for him, and he is forced to struggle with the unfamiliar, knotted laces. – and the ridiculous plaid things that pass for undergarments here.

The room is warm, lit by a bulb in the ceiling that glows with the light of the sun. The shower, once he turns it on, beats hot water onto his tensed body from three angled spigots, relaxing him. The soap bears a faint, soothing aroma of rosemary and mint. And he knew his traitorous “son” still had access to such luxury, Loki thinks, how quickly Odin would have forbidden it! He had been reduced to the inconvenient, troublingly-named “decontamination shower” if it were known. It is the one thing more that he needs to improve the situation, to know he is flouting All-Father's wishes. Loki smiles and turns his face upward, and lets the hot water wash his tension away.


	4. Tete-A-Tete Interrupted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not as if Tony was getting the response he wanted, but he's still disappointed when Loki shows up right in the middle of his lunch with Bruce.

The Captain's a lot of work. He keeps you busy all week long, – And yeah, it's kind of a nice break from doing corporate shit, but really: Was the suit designed for clearing roads and picking up girders? – and then he wants your Saturdays as well. Some kind of boring super-hero brunch thing: We get it, all right? Reed and Susan are a couple, and it's cute and all, and they've got this cozy house that's always full of flowers and shit. Does that mean he's got to waste his whole Saturday drinking mimosas with a lot of breeders?

Even Johnny's not going. He's spending the weekend (appropriately enough) on Fire Island. And Grimm's going to a football game with his girlfriend. But Steve's all, “ohhh, let's go, it'll be so much fu-uuu-uuun, c'mon Thor, Bruce, Tony, what do you say!”

Well he talked Thor into it, – Maybe the big guy thinks feasting will be involved, or mead. ...Or Pop-Tarts. – but fortunately, Bruce had more sense.”

“Oh no,” he says. “I promised Dr. Vang I'd run the epidemiological tests on those Chitauri tissue-samples we got.”

So, sweet: Nice tidy little conversation, and now it's just him and Bruce, with the whole tower to themselves. And so what if he's in the lab all morning running tests? He's got to eat, right?

Tony's thinking Indian food. The best recipes he finds on the Cuisine of Calcutta website (and just in passing: Who even knew there _was_ such a thing? Apparently not everyone there eats like Mother Theresa.) are for roast duck and kachchi biriyani, which is some kind of fancy-ass rice dish with a lot of ingredients in it. It's actually okay if Bruce takes a little while in the lab, because he's going to have to send over to Williams-Sonoma to get a biriyani pot. – And he's thinking Chinatown for the duck, that way it'll be fresh. So of course that means the extra time it'll take them to kill and clean it. He'll get some beer. – And tea of course, because Bruce doesn't drink.

So yeah, so he's up early even if he's not going to Richards' house. And Bruce is up early too, and right down into the lab working. The whole place is quiet, just the rattle-rattle of his pots, and the hiss of the espresso machine making coffee to drink while he works. It's kind of nice; he doesn't even bother to put on music.

Then finally around two, the duck's ready, and the guy from Haveli's on 2nd Avenue brings over a selection of desserts. They look kind of weird and squishy, but they taste all right if you like sweet stuff. Tony phones down to the lab to get Bruce. – He'd take the stuff down to him, but who knows what kind of germs he's been working with? Anyway, he's been working all morning, so he's got to be starved, so he's going to want seconds of everything, right?

Bruce comes up all wet from the decontamination shower. His hair's spiky from the towel he's still got around his neck, and his glasses are fogged up. 

“What's this?” He looks at the table. “Roast duck? Biriyani? Tony, you shouldn't have!”

“Funny thing.” Gentleman to the core, Tony pulls out a chair for his guest. “SHIELD's got all this data, but there's nothing on what Bruce Banner likes to eat most. They've got my favorite food, – Well, they've got burgers. They missed the part about them being from In-N-Out. – they've got the Captain's. – Did you know Steve's a meatloaf fan?”

Bruce grins that grin that makes you want to hug him like a teddy bear. “Tony, you're talking too much.” He sits. “I can't believe you did all this for me, Tony. Did you make it yourself?”

“Well not all of us had super-interesting alien tissue-samples that had to be studied.” Tony shrugs. “I've got some beer to go with this. – But you're like, against drinking, aren't you?”

“Yeah. You would be too, if...” Bruce's eyes go dark, and Tony feels his stomach twist. “ _You_ know why,” he says.

“Yeah.” Good thing he's got the water already boiling. He fills the pot with the Chai teabags in it, and brings it to the table along with his own bottle of Kingfisher.

Bruce hasn't started serving himself yet. He's just sitting there with this happy smile, like no one's ever given him a present before in his life. If what it says in the SHIELD-files is anything to go by, that's closer than it should be to the truth, Tony thinks, and he feels that twist in his stomach again. “I can't believe you made all this for me,” Bruce says again. “I didn't even know you could cook, Tony.”

“There are many things you don't know about Tony Stark.” Tony pulls a drumstick off the duck, and the skin fairly crackles (It was a good idea to score it before cooking, and turn the bird every hour while it was in the oven). “C'mon, eat, eat! Didn't your momma tell you good little scientists need their nourishment if they want to grow up big and strong?” He sets the drumstick on his own plate. “What do you want, white or dark meat?”

“You nut.” It's not sweet-talk, but it's a helluva lot sweeter than Bruce usually gets. Really, this lunch-thing was a brilliant idea. “Ducks only have dark meat. – I want some of this.” He pulls the dish of rice close and inhales with his eyes closed. “Oh my god, I can smell the ghee. – Tony, where did you get ghee?”

“Made it.” Another shrug. “You were in that lab a long time.”

Bruce piles his plate. Tony, for his part, who knows how many green chilies went into the biryani, sticks to the duck. He waits to eat, watches as Bruce takes a bite. “How is it?”

Bruce with his mouth full: “It's perfect. Just like they make it in Calcutta.” He looks past Tony, sees the jar on the table. “And you got chili-lime relish too! Tony, I don't deserve all this.”

“Yeah Bruce, you do. You really do.” Tony reaches across the table, and for once, when he takes Bruce's hand, he doesn't pull away.

“Tony…” There's a look in Bruce's brown eyes. It's not the rejecting look he was expecting, but it doesn't say, _hey Tony, fuck me right now, right on the table,_ like he'd like it to either. There's a word for it... “Hesitant”, yeah, there it is. Tony lets his hand stay where it is a second or two more, just to show his intentions. Then he lifts it, hovering it over Bruce’s.

“Too fast?”

“Are you ever not?” That laugh Bruce gives him, there's worlds of message in that laugh. 

Tony tries one more time: “You know not everybody's scared away by the Other Guy.”

But Bruce's flat answer nearly breaks his heart. “I am.” He shoves his fork back into the rice on his plate. “Let’s just eat, okay?”

“Okay,” Tony grabs a paratha from the plate, wraps up some of the duck in it and takes a bite. “It's just a matter of time you know,” he says. “You're awesome, and not just for your big genius-brain...” A faint cough from Bruce, and he stops. “Why don’t you tell me something about what you were doing in the lab.”

“Oh, it’s fascinating.” Bruce, of course, is eager to get away from _sensitive issues_. He starts in immediately about tissue-samples and cellular-structures, all the while, eating away. You've got to hand it to a guy who can gobble big hunks of meat and talk about deformities and contagious diseases at the same time. – It's why Tony Stark _didn't_ become a doctor. ...Interesting in its way though, and besides, he's done eating.

“Our theory is that the Chitauri are a race of cyborgs.” Finished with his rice, Bruce pours himself some more tea. “There's organic material there, but it's combined with the inorganic – Their scales are metal, and don't get me started on the bone-structure. – It's kind of amazing, because you can't see where the organic stops and the inorganic begins. Best theory we've got so far, is it’s…”

“Infused with magic.” They both jump when they hear Loki's voice from the doorway, and Bruce's hand flies even further away from Tony's than it was already. _Thank you, Reindeer Games, once again you've managed to really fuck with Tony Stark's day._

“You're here?” It's all Tony can think of to say. He looks at Bruce. “Did you know he was here?”

“Well it makes sense.” Along with the logical scientist-voice, Bruce also goes back to that habit of his where he takes off his glasses and polishes them whenever he feels uncomfortable. “He wouldn't have gone to that party at Reed Richards' place. – Did anyone even think to invite him?”

Uh no... Because he's been doing his best to be a total antisocial jerkwad ever since he got here. – And besides, why would a super- _villain_ want to spend the whole day being stared at by a bunch of super-heroes? “I'm sure Steve did.” It comes out mumbled-sounding and awkward.

“He did not.” Loki crosses to the kitchen and opens the refrigerator. “And I can see I am not welcome here either.” He flicks a nasty little glance over at the table and their meal. “This has every indication of being an intimate little tete-a-tete. – What is your mortal expression? Two's company, and three's a crowd?” He pulls a bag of Wonder Bread (Steve's) out of the fridge and opens it, taking out the heel-slice that always gets left because even Steve doesn't want to eat it. “I am sure I can satisfy my hunger acceptably with this 'Wonderful Bread'.”

“You can eat with us.” _Dammit Bruce, where the hell did that come from?_ “There's plenty,” Bruce says, “and besides, Wonder Bread sucks.”

And again, Tony's reduced to being the awkward-mumbler. “Steve doesn't think so.”

“Yeah, and Thor thinks Pop Tarts are a taste-treat from Heaven.” Bruce is up and in the kitchen grabbing Loki a plate and some silverware before Tony can say another word. He plunks down a setting right-the-hell in between where the two of them have been sitting, and pulls out the chair. “Loki, it isn't going to work for you to stay here if we keep treating you like a plague virus or something. Come on, join us and have lunch.” He grins. “Tony's made some killer-food.”

_Yeah. I made it for you..._

Another nasty green-eyed glance from old Reindeer Games. “Tony does not seem so enthusiastic to have me here.”

“Fine, stay.” He huffs a sigh of acceptance, because really, what other choice does he have? “Loki, you want beer or tea with your food?”


	5. Slow Move Toward Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki's difficult, but he's not the first difficult person Bruce has ever dealt with.

Loki wants beer. And of course he's got to make a comment about how _bad_ it is, compared with the ale on Asgard. That's kind of par for the course with him though, and there's this weird sort of tentative look on his face as he sits down, – It's not just like he doesn't think he'll be welcome at the table, but like he sort of _wants_ to be welcome. – that sends a stab of guilt through Bruce's chest. So there is something besides spoiled-brat tantruminess inside Thor's little brother. Who knew? 

“I can take the food to my room if you'd rather.” He sounds almost nice when he says it. “If you and Stark wanted your privacy.”

“Call me Tony.” Tony's voice is grudging as hell, but he says it anyway, and that's the main thing. They're all going to have to start making Loki feel welcome sooner or later, if they want any chance of rehabilitating him. He shoves the plate of duck over his way. “You'll want this, I guess. I kind of get the impression from Thor that you Asgardians mostly eat roasted meat.”

“Thank you...” Loki's voice is surprisingly polite. “Thank you, _Tony_.” He takes the other drumstick left on the bird. “I thought my brother had told you however: I am not of the Aesir.”

Adopted, yeah, of course. And first he'd said all that about the bag of cats and smelling the crazy on him. It kind of seems tactless as hell, now he's looking face-to-face with the guy, no matter if he did start it by calling him a “mindless beast.” ...Anyway, he's called the Other Guy way worse on occasion.

“Well he said you were adopted.” – Bruce pushes the rice Loki's way. “Here, try some of this, it's really good.”

“If you like burning the hell out of your mouth,” Tony interrupts. “Which I don't know... Maybe Asgardians do. _Do_ they like that, Loki?” –

“He _said_ you were adopted,” Bruce repeats. “He didn't say from where. – And by the way, Asgardians _don't_ like that,” he adds, turning to Tony. “Remember the Flaming Hot Cheetohs?” 

Tony snickers. “Yeah, who even knew they'd sell those things at a shwarma place?”

“He drank his whole Mountain Dew in about three gulps after just one of those things. -- So yeah, Asgardians don't like hot food.” 

Bruce looks back at Loki, who has meanwhile, been eating steadily. He hasn't seen him eat, it occurs to him suddenly, not since that first morning with the pancakes. Is it because he feels awkward around them? He's got several duck-bones on his plate, and he's just taken another serving. “How about your people?” Bruce asks him. “Do they like their food hot?”

“ _Hot_?” Loki looks up, Bruce sees pain, a flicker of anger and something almost like sadness go across his face, all in a moment, before he schools it into an expression of sarcasm. “Oh, you don't know my heritage, do you, Dr. Banner? I am of the Jotnar, the Frost Giants of Jotunheimr. Nothing is hot in their desolate realm, as nothing is civilized. They are uncouth, bloody-minded brutes.” He drops his gaze back to his plate, adding in a lower voice, “no doubt you think me quite a good representative of such.”

“You mean because of what you did the last time you were here.” Now that he's brought up the subject, it only makes sense to continue it. One thing he's learned, trying to deal with the Other Guy, is that denying reality only gets you in trouble.

Loki looks at him, anger flaring in his green eyes. “I mean because I offered myself as ruler for your benighted realm. Certainly your own rulers are not doing so successful a job.”

“Yeah, well most people don't like being taken over by force.” Tony, sounding pissed off.

Loki turns, throws the anger his way. This thing could escalate faster than he expected. He's going to have to hope the same things work to cool off Thor's unstable brother, as work on himself.

In other words, honesty. “He's got a point,” he says. “You came here and you started in right away, killing everyone in your way. Why? You must have known it wouldn't work.”

Just for one moment, he sees a blank look go across Loki's face. – He doesn't know why he did it, he thinks. Somehow he let himself be used. But why? And by whom? – Then the mask is back in place, and he smiles blandly. “Who can say what will work on a bunch of stupid mortals? I offered my skills. And you knew the power I wield, you would understand what I could have done for you.”

Bruce hears Tony's muffled snort, but he ignores it. He keeps his attention on Loki. After a moment, the smug look leaves his face. His expression is tired, almost hopeless looking. Wordlessly, he picks up one of the bones from his plate and twirls it between his fingers. Finally, he speaks.

“Do not underestimate me, Dr. Banner. You think you have me all figured out: I was jealous of my 'brother', I threw a tantrum, I allowed myself to be 'used' by one who's designs were not my own. As if I am a child, who would take my toy sword and go home, and the game did not go my way. I am much, _much_ more, Doctor.”

“What are you then, Loki?” The question is obvious.

Also obvious, the way it puts his barriers right back up again. Arrogance, smugness, the close fit of a role that is ...almost, but not quite, the right one: “I am the God of Chaos. I am the Trickster who works in the shadows, destabilizing where I will...”

Bruce cuts in before he can list off every name the Ancient Norse ever gave him. “What are you that makes you happy?” he says. “Because it seems to me if that stuff did, you wouldn't have ended up here in the first place.”

“It seems to _me_ ,” – There's an edgy tone to Tony's voice as he speaks. – “we've spent just about enough time talking about Loki's _issues_. Excuse me, but this is not a group therapy session. Time to talk about something different. Let's talk about... – Oh, I dunno. – Let's talk about the weekend, or something.”

“The 'weekend'?” Loki tilts his head in question.

“The reason you didn't have to go to work today.” Rising, Tony clears dishes from the table. “The reason your brother went to that party.”

Loki speaks quickly. “And you paid me, I would not have gone to that. – Thor asked me, do not think he did not. The Golden One is ever-generous, whether his friends...”

 _Whether they want him there or not,_ Bruce thinks. Those are the words Loki's not saying. He wonders what it's like when he does go. Do people give him the weird looks they give _him_ at parties? As if, “oh yeah, Bruce is all right, but any minute now the Hulk might come out”?

“Well I didn't want to go either.” Tony's being unexpectedly nice about all this. He takes the last of their plates to the kitchen, brings back a tray with Indian desserts on it. Bruce sees the syrupy balls called rasgulla. He sees the creamy rice pudding called kheer, and chewy, fudgy pieces of kalakand. He's not a big one for sweets, but he's got to admit, Tony went all-out. “Pepper's always finding all these social obligations I have to go to,” he says. “Meetings, and dinners, and parties that are more boring than any of them. It's not like I go to them all.”

Loki selects a dish of the kheer. He takes a bite and smiles. “In Asgard we call this risengrod. It is very good. You have done well, Stark.”

Funny, how the compliment sounds as natural as any of the insults he was throwing around earlier...

Tony's smile looks natural too. “I'm not crazy about all this sweet shit,” he says, “but when Tony Stark does something, he does it right.”

“One way we are alike.” Loki takes another bite of the rice pudding. “And I had my powers unrestricted, I would prepare you some of the things we eat in Asgard. My mother...” His face clouds. “Rather, the woman who _called herself_ my mother...” He pushes the dish away and stands. “Cooking is woman's work. What else is there to do on a 'weekend'?”

Dealing with Loki is like dealing with a wounded, defensive teenager. It wasn't so noticeable when he had his powers; back then there was always the risk that he would blow something up, or escape, or kill somebody, to distract you. Now that he's powerless, – Now that they're talking about personal things, and who would have believed that Thor's evil brother would ever settle down enough with any of them to do _that_? – it just screams out to be noticed. He just looks angry and bitter, when he talks about Thor or his father. But that moment when he mentioned his mother: There was genuine _pain_ on his face. 

Bruce isn't going to push it right now though. Tony's right, this isn't “group therapy time”, and besides, it's hard to know how far he can go without starting a tantrum. “You can do anything you want on a weekend,” he says. “You can sleep late or see a movie. – Or you can go to a party like Steve and Thor did. “

“...You can look at cell-samples under a microscope all day.” Tony throws him a grin.

Bruce can't help smiling back. “...Or you can drink yourself into a stupor.”

“One beer! – One beer!” Tony's voice rises in mock protest. “Besides, it's too early to start drinking.”

Loki looks from one to the other of him, and his face darkens. “Why not go to your room and fuck right now, if you're so desperate. I didn't ask you to entertain me.”

Bruce doesn't have to look at Tony to know he loves that idea. Tony cares, yeah, he gets it, okay? You just can't jump into everything feet-first, though. There's a reason he hasn't had sex since the accident; he's not sure what the Other Guy would do if he tried. “Do you have any hobbies, Loki?” As a distraction, it's so off-topic that he can hear Tony's teeth click together in irritation when he says it. Loki too, looks at him with skepticism written large on his face.

“ _Hobbies_?”

“What do you like to do in your free time?”

Tony interrupts: “...Besides planning alien invasions and trying to take over other peoples' worlds,” 

“Ignore him, Loki,” Bruce says. “I'm serious. When you have free time all to yourself, what do you like to do?”

A look of doubt crosses Loki's face. Then it smooths away and he looks innocent, almost happy, for the first time since Bruce has seen him. “I like to read...” His face twists again right away, into a patronizing sneer. “You mortals, with your ignorance of magic, will have no books to interest such as I.”

“Are you so narrow-minded that you can only read one subject?” Tony's going to kill him when he finds out that his plan for “weekend fun” involves a trip to the library. – _Fury's_ going to kill him when he finds out he's taking “the war-criminal Loki” out into Manhattan again, and with the Hulk as his guard. -- Now that he's had the idea though, Bruce isn't going to back down. It's just so nice seeing Thor's brother actually _like_ something for a change. “I know a place with lots of books...”

Tony's interruption: “Not the library! That’s so bo-ooring!”

“A library?” Loki's eyes light.

“With one of the best collections in the country. How much Midgardian history did you read before you came here, Loki? – How much... There's this subject called 'Psychology', it tells you all about how we mortals operate. You ever read any of that?”

“I care not to learn more about your pathetic mortal minds.” Despite the supercilious words, Loki still looks decidedly interested. “This history: My brother and I have visited Midgard before, long long ago by your time, when the ancient gods were still recognized. I wonder if there is record of our deeds here.”

“I don't know. I think we call that mythology.”

“Mythology?” An instant frown from Loki. “As if it were not true?”

“Well it's a little more complicated than that... – Ow!” All the looks Tony’s been giving him have escalated now, to an elbow in his ribs. Bruce turns. “Loki's a _guest_. I don't know about you, but my mom taught me we should be hospitable to our guests.”

“Loki's a _prisoner_. Besides, have you tried finding parking on 5th Avenue?”

“A taxi...” 

“Oh great, _Loki_ in a taxi.” Tony rolls his eyes.

“I will not go.” Bruce is starting to get used to Loki. He anticipates the rush of hurt and pain that go across his face, as well as the arrogant expression that instantly comes down like a shutter. “I would not dream of intruding myself where I am not wanted.”

“Never mind Tony. I’ll be happy to go to the library with you.” On instinct, Bruce puts out a hand. He's about an inch from patting their prisoner/guest's arm, when Loki pulls away and turns, his green eyes narrowed. Okay, maybe he's not getting used to him so much after all. “It's not a favor,” he persists. ”I'd like to go to the library too. I could use something to read besides Tony's programming books.”

“You're going to take a cab?” Now it's Tony's turn to sound sulky. “With the Other Guy.”

He isn't really crazy about the idea if you get right down to it. At least it's still early in the afternoon, he tells himself. It should still be a pretty easy drive. Coming back though... Bruce pushes the thought from his mind. He's made his invitation, he's not going to screw Loki over by taking it back. “I'm going to take a cab with our guest,” he says. “That's what a good host does.” He looks at Tony. “I know it's a lot of trouble getting that Ferrari of yours out of the garage...” –

“It's an Acura.” Tony huffs out a long breath. “And heaven knows I wasn't going to do anything this afternoon. For instance I didn't have any plans for being alone with you, and I certainly don't mind going off and leaving the kitchen full of dirty dishes.”

This is Tony Stark-language for “yes”. Bruce laughs. “Yeah, like you were going to wash them. Don't you have robots for that?”

“Yeah, brilliant robots that can't make a simple smoothie without breaking something.” Tony stands, empties the last of his beer. “You owe me for this, Banner. I want you washing dishes with me when we get back.” – Bruce nods. – “And I want you in a French maid costume while you're doing it.”

Yeah, that's not going to happen.

Everyone knows the New York Public Library. The classical columns, and the lions out in front are familiar from about a million movies. What you don't get from seeing them onscreen though, is any sense of how huge everything is. It's like entering a museum. – No, more so, it's like somebody took the White House, or the Sistine Chapel or something, and re-vamped it for everyone in the city to use just to find a book or look at a magazine. It's kind of cool in its way. It kind of gives you a lift just walking inside it, and then that turns into more amazement when you see all the gold and the painted ceilings in the main reading room. It sure beats the hell out of the library on Central Avenue that his mom used to take him to, when he was a kid in Los Alamos.

Tony doesn't seem so impressed (of course). He's rich. Getting to walk around freely in public landmarks is probably an everyday thing for him. And as for Loki, he's not so much interested in the building, which is probably dwarfed by his palace back on Asgard anyway, as he is in the books. He talks with the reference librarian (surprisingly nicely). Then he's off right away and Bruce and Tony don't see him for hours.

“I can't believe you talked me into this.” Bruce found something to read right away, after he realized how long Loki was going to take, but Tony can't seem to settle down that much. He's flipped through the New York Times business section, and started about a hundred different books off the New Books shelf. – He's given a good try to hacking the library's computer network so he could open a porn site (No dice). Now he's just sitting on the seat next to Bruce's, bobbing around. and squirming like a kid that needs to go potty. “You realize it's going to be forever until he's done?”

“I realize you're in what must be any reader's paradise, and you can't even find something to do.” Bruce flips a page in his book. “What's the matter with you, don't you read?”

“No attention span. Zero. None.” Tony turns to scan the hallway Loki vanished down two hours ago again. “Besides, I've read everything here.”

“Everything?” Bruce pulls a book off the shelf at random. “Here, you read this?”

“ _Breaking Dawn_.” It's funny to see how fast Tony drops the book, like it's got germs on it or something. “What do I look like, a 12-year old girl?”

Bruce snickers. “Well you said you'd read everything in here.”

“Wait a sec, this got any porn in it?” Tony picks up the book. “I heard where one of them was about S&M.”

“That's _Fifty Shades of Grey_. I'll bet they have that here too.” Bruce looks at Tony. “Is that something you're into?”

Tony leers. “Why, is it something you're into?”

Uh, that would be a big no about that. The biggest. He can't believe Tony would even ask that: Whether the guy with the monster inside him likes being tied up and tortured? It's got to be a joke, right?

Maybe some of that shows on his face, because Tony's face turns serious right away. “I was joking. – You realize I was joking, don't you? – You can't take anything I say seriously, just ask Pepper.” Then when he realizes what else he just said, his face falls even more. “I'm not just some playboy that hits on everybody I see.”

Funny, that's not what Natasha said about him.

“Pepper's beautiful, and she's a class act all the way. But what keeps us together, is she's my best friend...” Tony's voice dies away. “I'm just making this worse, aren't I?”

Well for one thing, he's talking about their personal life in the middle of the New York Public Library. Why not just tweet all the details out to his probably ten million followers... – Why not just put it on the Stark Enterprises website and be done with it? – For another thing, he's just said he couldn't stay faithful to a beautiful woman who's also his best friend... This is supposed to make somebody feel good about liking him? It is liking, Bruce tells himself. Liking, with maybe a hint of attraction, that he would be insane to follow up on, because... 

“Do you know what would happen the first time you cheated on me?” Unlike Tony, Bruce keeps his voice low. Hopefully, they can still get out of here without the entire world knowing every detail of their private lives. He meets Tony's eyes, and Tony, to his credit, looks back, totally serious.

“I'm guessing some kind of Hulk-rampage would be involved?” 

“You've heard about what happened in Harlem. Even when he's on the good side...” Bruce swallows. He hates talking about this. “Stuff happens,” he says. “People get hurt.”

Tony takes his hand. Bruce wants to pull it away. -- He imagines some paparazzo behind a column: They won't even see the flash. First they'll know of it will be the front-page headline in the Post: “Billionaire playboy Tony Stark's new mystery-love.” ...Unless the editor's heard about the Other Guy, and then it'll be worse. – He waits though. This isn't going to take long, and after that they'll be done with all these complications, and he and Tony can get back to being good friends like they should be.

Then, for the first time, Tony surprises him. “You know I'm the one who recruited your Other Guy for the Avengers.”

He did? Ross never said the name. He mentioned Fury, but that was... That was later, wasn't it? After Loki showed up? “Why? – Why _him_ , Tony?”

“I know about what happened in Harlem.” He's so surprised that he lets Tony keep talking. -- It helps that he's keeping his voice down. – “I know you and the H... Uh, you and your Other Guy worked together on that one. That's what it looked like, anyway. I thought, somebody as smart as that, and somebody as decent as that: What would happen if he really learned to control all that power? – What could he and his Other Side do together?”

“And you naturally thought, what could be better than dating a guy with a giant monster inside him too?”

Tony laughs. Just a little bit of his usual Tony Stark-ness in case Bruce had forgotten who he's talking to. “No that wasn't until I saw you naked.” He turns serious again quickly. “You're right though, you shouldn't date me. I'm a douchebag, and a dick... – Look how I've treated Pepper. – If I had the chance, I wouldn't date me,” he says. “I don't know if I'd even be friends with me.”

Funny, it's the exact same thing he thought. It sounds kind of self-pitying, coming from Tony. “Yeah you would,” he says. “Of course you'd date you.” 

“Yeah I would.” Tony shrugs. “I give great parties.” He's still holding Bruce's hand, and he doesn't let go (and there are probably still a million paparazzi all over the place taking pictures ...or recording them). “Seriously though, you think you're the only one with baggage? Are you going to just live alone for the rest of your life because you've got baggage? That sounds pretty lonely.”

It is lonely. He thought he was used to the fact that he was going to have to be lonely all his life, until Tony had to bring it back up. “We could just be friends.” Bruce tries for a smile. They can't though, and he knows it. Tony's not the kind to be satisfied like that. 

He doesn't say anything more. Neither does Tony. After a minute, Bruce realizes they're still holding hands. And he's still looking into Tony's eyes. He pulls his hand free. “Yeah, well there's still the question of what you're going to read while Loki's looking around. I'm thinking Science Fiction. – What is there around here?” He looks over at the New Books shelf.

“Here's a book.” It's not until Tony picks it up off the table in front of them that Bruce even notices it's there. _Oh yeah,_ he thinks when he sees the Disney picture on the cover, _that's why I didn't notice it._

“This looks like a good story.” Tony opens the book. “Says here there was this girl, she was antisocial and lived in her books all the time.” He looks at Bruce. “Sounds like somebody I know.”

“Yeah, well the Beast's pretty antisocial too.” Bruce turns a couple of pages. “He lives all alone in that huge castle of his and his only friends are a bunch of talking gadgets.” 

They're looking at a picture of the candlestick that runs everything. Tony snickers. “You saying I should give JARVIS a French accent?”

“And teach him to sing, yeah.” Bruce has to laugh at the mental picture. “Because the only thing better than an AI butler is an AI butler that sings show tunes.”

“Seriously though,” Tony says, “I'm not antisocial.”

He kind of is though, isn't he? How many real friends does he have anyway? Besides Pepper? 

“Yeah, well I'm not some whiny teenage girl who reads all the time either. If I'm anybody in that story, I'm the Beast, not you.”

“Can't be the Beast. I called him first.” Tony pulls the book away and holds it just out of reach. “You have to be... – What's her name? Ariel? – You have to be Ariel.”

“It's Belle, duh. Because it means Beauty. As in _Beauty_ and the Beast? And I'm a Beast, and you're not... – You realize we're sitting here arguing over who gets to be who in a Disney Princess book?” 

“Beats worrying about Loki.” Tony turns the book over and looks at the back cover. “Also I call Aladdin, and I call what's-his-name, the lion cub from Lion King. – And I totally call that fat drag-queen lady from Little Mermaid. She's cool. You have to be the mermaid.”

“Seriously Tony, how many of these things have you watched?”

He shrugs. “I was in college. Weed was involved. What did you do for fun when you were in college?”

Fun? Weird, how he has to think about that one. College was when he met Betty. That was when he still thought they had a future together. She was the one with money. Full scholarship or no full scholarship, Harvard's not cheap. Mostly they did things he could afford. It felt wrong, taking money from her.

Fun... Movies... “Edward Scissorhands,” he says finally. “My girlfriend saw that and she cried. Then she gave me tickets for Christmas because she said I had to see it.” He doesn't add that she said he was just like Edward. Or that she also gave him gloves which he didn't have, and tried to give him a coat as well.

“Johnny Depp, yeah. I'd do him.” For a change, Bruce is glad of Tony's crude comment. It gets them away from personal topics.

“You'd do anyone.”

“Especially Johnny Depp.” Tony pulls out his phone and checks the time. “You realize Loki's been gone an hour?”

It's a library, how much harm can he get into? “Sometimes it takes me a couple of hours to find what I want,” Bruce says. “Especially if it's a new library.”

“Well if it's going to be a couple of hours, we're going across the street and get coffee. I've sat still long enough. – No, scratch that. Loki doesn't have a phone.” Tony looks at his again. “It's almost five, Bruce. I say we go get Reindeer Games and go home. We can get cozy together in my room – You know, _talk about Disney Princesses_. – and he can read his books or bitch at the others.”

It's going to be hell dragging Loki out of here. He's not going to want to leave. Bruce knows how much he hates being disturbed when he's reading. He looks at his watch. “You think Thor and Steve are back yet?”

“From one of Richards' parties? I dunno...”

Before Tony can finish, Bruce catches sight of the dark jacket and green scarf Loki's wearing today. Thor's little brother comes down the aisle with his head held high and an armful of books. Behind him, comes a librarian with more books.

“I am informed that the library is closing.” Loki sets his pile down on the table where Bruce and Tony are sitting. “I am also informed that the books here may be 'borrowed', and returned when one is finished with them.” He throws a scathing look back at the unfortunate librarian who is helping him. “I am further informed that this privilege is available only to those with permanent addresses in New York, which I do not have. You...” – He looks at Tony. – “You must borrow these books for me.”

_______________________

31 books means all of them have to help carry them out to the Acura. First Bruce puts down his stack, – In the back seat, not the trunk, because Loki _has_ to start reading them right away. – then Tony dumps his on top... Then there's about five minutes' wait while Loki traipses down the steps of the library and out to the car, with one of the books already open, and his nose deep inside it. It's kind of a funny image.

“Looks like you had fun,” Bruce says.

“The servants there were quite helpful.” Finicky as a cat, Loki settles himself into the back seat next to his stack of books. He closes the book he was reading, and selects another one from the pile. “They tell me there are other library branches throughout the city? You must help me find the one that deals with the arcane arts.”

“That would be none of them.” Tony hasn't gotten in the car yet. He's throwing meaning glances at a Starbucks across the street. “There's a good tech-library in Queens. The Stark Collection...” 

Huge, dramatic sigh from Loki: “Ah yes, your mortal 'tech'. Faint, futile stabs at understanding, by those too blind to see further.”

“If I remember correctly, it was one of our science-experiments that kicked your skinny ass when you were here trying to invade.”

“The green beast, yes.” Loki looks up from his book only to raise one elegant eyebrow in Tony's direction. “A _failed_ experiment, was he not?”

If they were all friends, it might be kind of fun to watch Tony and Loki match wits together. They seem pretty evenly matched, and neither one looks like he'll hold back a bit. But they're not of course, not really. ...Not yet, anyway. Bruce rushes in to make peace. “Hey look.” He checks the meter on their parking space. “We still have an hour on this thing.” He looks over at the Starbucks that Tony was eying earlier. “What say we get coffee?”

“Tony (of course) lights up. “I'm always up for coffee.” 

“Coffee...” Loki holds the place in his book with a finger. “That is the name of the mortal beverage you served with the pancakes the morning I arrived?” He nods. “I will partake as well.”

Across the street, Tony orders. He brings their order to the table: Coffee for him and Loki, Chai for Bruce as usual. Loki eyes the cups.

“Your 'coffee' s a different color from mine, Stark.”

“Yeah, that's because he gets his with _added_ coffee.” Bruce huffs a sigh. “For that special, can't-sleep-all-night goodness.”

“Sleep's for no0bs.” Tony looks at Loki. “I got you the regular. Your brother always adds so much stuff to his that you can't taste the coffee any more. I don't know how you like yours.” He laughs. “Bruce, you heard Dr. Foster tell about the first time she ordered coffee for Thor, right?”

“And he liked it so much he threw the mug at the wall?” Bruce's laugh dies, as he sees Loki's brow darken.

“My brother and I are _not_ alike. And you'll remember, we do not share a common heritage.” Carefully, Loki sips the coffee. “It is quite good. Is there a way to make it cooler without compromising the flavor?”

“Milk.” Bruce points. He waits until Loki's back before continuing: “You were telling us before about being adopted. You're not even from the same world as Thor, are you? How did that work, anyway? Why would someone go looking on another world if they wanted to adopt?”

“Wanted to adopt?” Loki’s green eyes darken again. “The All-Father visited Jotunheimr to wage war. He found me and took me as a trophy, a pawn to be used in his negotiations with the Jotnar.”

Tony blinks. It's not what he expected, probably; it's not what Bruce expected either. “Thor called you his brother...”

Loki continues as if he didn't hear him. “In truth, I do not know why he thought I could help him. The Jotnar had no love for me. I was considered small from a giant's standard. My father, King Laufey left me to die, in the temple where Odin found me.”

“Maybe he did it to protect you,” Bruce says. “There was a war going on. Maybe he thought you'd be safer there.”

Loki's green eyes sweep him: Shame, and desolation, mixed with condescension at his ignorance. “To be sure. A babe alone in an empty temple. What could be safer?” He cups his drink in his hands, looks down into it for a moment. “My birth mother could not be bothered to stay and protect me. No doubt she was ashamed as well, to have borne a runt such as I.” He laughs shortly. “I should feel quite lucky to have been taken in by All-Father, should I not?”

Bruce hears Tony's sigh, his whisper: “Oh, now we're getting into emo-territory.” He throws him a glare. No, he didn't sign on to do therapy for rejected demigods either, but a Loki who trusts them might be a Loki who behaves a little better as well.

“So why aren't you?”

Loki smiles thinly. “I was... – Funny that I was, for I was never a favorite among the Aesir. My ways were those of a sorcerer, _eigr_ , compared to the manly brawn of my comrades.”

“Eigr?” Bruce repeats it.

“Womanish. In Asgard, men fight, women hide from combat with magic or deception.” His voice falters. Just for a moment, Bruce thinks, he's looking at the boy Loki used to be, a small, skinny kid passed over and teased by the others, hiding away in his books. He was that kid too once upon a time, wasn't he? Then the shutters come back down and Loki's face hardens. “But I was telling you why I was so _ungrateful_ , in the face of All-Father's generosity. Did Thor tell you he was to be crowned King before he was banished here? Did he happen to mention that it wasn't until after that, while he was romping around on Midgard, smashing coffee cups against the wall and such, that Odin deigned tell me my true parentage?” Again, Bruce sees the sadness sweep his face. Just for a moment and it's gone, and Loki's voice is cool and silky. “Had I known I was the spawn of another, inferior race, I had not presumed to expect equal treatment from All-Father.” He smiles, beautifully calm. “Understand my surprise, my bitterness ...my ingratitude.”

“Complicated as hell,” Bruce hears Tony mutter. “Daddy always did like you best, only with a whole kingdom at-stake...” _Nine kingdoms,_ Bruce thinks. _or nine realms... Whatever the hell that means._

They still don't know the whole story, and he'd like to know more. To hear Thor tell about it, one day his little kid brother was following him into battle, and the next day he was lying to him about their father being dead and sending giant mech to attack him. Loki's just barely hanging on though. You can see it in how he sits, tense and stiff, and holding his coffee cup so tight it's got creases in it. _If he had an Other Guy, he'd be out right now._ The thought pops into Bruce's head and, after it, all the calming, soothing strategies he uses when he feels trouble coming.

“Your past isn't your future.”

Loki flicks him a look. “Do not patronize me, Dr. Banner.”

“I'm trying to get along with you,” Bruce says. “You make it hard.”

The hand tightens around the coffee cup. He's made a mis-step. Maybe Loki can't handle this much honesty yet. “ _I_ make it hard? I chose to come here in involuntary servitude, I suppose? To live as your and Tony Stark's prisoner?”

“You made that choice when you tried to take over the Earth, Loki.” Tony's voice cuts the air. “You think I like having you around all the time? That I want to spend my life babysitting a war-criminal?”

Narrowed green eyes on one side of the table, face off against narrowed blue eyes on the other side. Loki raises his arms, showing the bracelets Odin has placed on his wrists. “And these are removed, I shall leave, Mr. Stark. I presume upon your hospitality only under duress.”

“That's another thing,” Tony grates. “Can the Shakespeare talk for a while. Who talks like that, _all the time_? Christ, it's like being trapped in a room with Hamlet's psychopathic brother.”

“You would rather I speak in 'tech', and references from a culture that is not my own.” With effort, Loki draws a breath. He loosens his grip on the coffee cup. “I should have known better than to come out with you today. – I should have kept in my room as I had originally planned.”

“Yeah that's right, hide away in your room...”

Bruce jabs Tony hard. “Jesus, do you hear yourself? You sound like your dad.”

“How do you know what Howard Stark...” Tony stops. He laughs softly. “Yeah,” he says. “I guess I do. And Reindeer Games sounds just like me when I was about 12.”

Loki frowns. “My name is not...” --

“Nickname,” Tony says. “You can pick one for me too, if you want. Make it mean, I don't care. – Listen Loki, Bruce is right. I'm not your dad, and you're not a little kid. And you didn't fuck up my afternoon.” He laughs ruefully. “It probably wasn't going anywhere anyway. But you have to get past the family issues. Are you going to be King What's-his-Butt's reject-son and the kid that was picked last for the team your whole life? Isn't it time to base your future on what you like, instead of thinking about what you hate all the time?”

Loki's shoulders relax a little. He gets up and throws his mangled cup in the trash and comes back and sits down. – What is it about Tony, Bruce thinks? If anyone else said the things he says, they'd get their ass handed to them. – “There is no future for me,” Loki says, but he doesn't sound like he really believes it. “What am I to do, become an Avenger?” He raises one eyebrow. “One of 'Earth's Mightiest Heroes'?”

“We could do worse,” Tony says. Fury said we could use some magic on the team. – Of course he was talking about the Scarlet Witch, and we haven't been able to locate her to recruit her yet, but the point's the same. You're good, you're smart, and you're hell to defeat in a fight. If you ever do decide to fight with us...”

What the hell is Tony doing? He is not offering _Loki_ a place on the Avengers ...without any proof that he's even trustworthy? Bruce jabs him again, hard.

Tony coughs. “Yeah, well as I was saying...” -- He rubs his arm. “That _hurt_ , Bruce. -- Reindeer Games, they have these things called 'cake pops' here: Pure sugar, full of artificial flavors and some weird stuff that isn't really chocolate. Best possible thing to eat with your coffee. You want a couple?”

“Sugar.” Loki flicks a dubious glance from Tony to Bruce, and then back again. He apparently decides not to pursue the issue though. “Had I taken that away from your people, I would be ruler of Midgard now.”

“Yeah, we're pretty addicted.” Tony's already up at the counter. He brings back a bag full of round lollipop-looking things in unnatural colors. How he can even think of eating, so soon after their big lunch... But oh yeah, this is Tony. He hands Loki something pink and gritty-looking. “Prepare to be addicted.”

“I am not Thor, to be so easily seduced by your pathetic mortal foodstuffs,” Loki says very, very loftily. But he takes a bite, just the same.


	6. A Mere Scribe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Resentment wars with relief, as Loki is taken from clean-up duty and put to a different task.

“I talked to Bruce.” It is Sunday night, end of the much-vaunted “weekend” Banner and Stark – Bruce and Tony. – spoke so highly of. Rogers has pulled him aside. He has taken him, with Thor, into a room separate from the others. There, he sits with his hands folded on the table, his expression serious. “He wants you off the clean-up crew, Loki.”

Thor is quick to speak. “My brother has done nothing wrong. He has obeyed orders.”

_He has followed Thor closely. He has been a subservient little shadow, slow to raise an objection or voice a criticism, whatever the provocation. Try saying what you mean, Thunderer; in precision, lies clarity._

Rogers nods. “He's got a good report so far from Pete, surprisingly good, better than I expected.” He smiles. “You've done a good job supervising him, Thor.” --

Because it is Thor who has given him this _surprising_ ability to follow a simple order, yes.

– “Bruce thinks it's time to move Loki to a different job,” Rogers says. “He says he's willing to supervise him.”

An interesting proposition, this. Keeping his gaze downcast, Loki lets himself consider it: Which “Bruce” is volunteering supervision duties, is it the gentle scientist, or the beast? And what pray, is this _new job_ he proposes for the Sly One?

“You know he's been volunteering his time at the hospital.” – Thor nods. – “There's a lot of work there, he says...”

“He thinks my brother ready to serve at a hospital? Among sick and injured mortals?”

“I don't like it myself.” Rogers frowns. “Your brother's gone out of his way to let us know what a bad opinion he has of us. That ant-being-squashed-by-a-boot talk of his isn't going to go over well around people who are only hurt because of him.”

“I could work there with him.” _Oh yes Thunderer, please! It is well known Loki speaks politely, only when you are there._

Loki raises his head. He looks at Rogers. “I am here to make penance for my crimes. I will serve in whatever capacity you give me.”

“Yeah.” The dubious look he gets in response is angering. What has he done since being here, to justify this lack of trust? “You say that. Nobody's forgotten the last time you were here, Loki. You didn't leave a very good impression.”

As he must ever do, the Thunderer speaks for him. “People can change.”

Rogers frowns. “I thought your people believed in Fate. People do what it's their destiny to do, right?”

The word “Fate”, falling from a mortal's lips, is surprising. Long has Loki Liesmith pondered how much of what he does is fate, and how much of it is willed. The Giants' race has ever been one of chaos. Child of Jotunheimr, Loki was doomed to lies and disorder by his parentage alone. Thor is soft-hearted. He would nurse this cuckoo who fell so inappropriately into his father's nest. Someday, in some distant future, mayhap the Sly One will find the chance to turn that against him. 

“What benefit to me and I do not behave, Captain?” Smooth words and a mild visage will bring results as they always have. “Do not think me fool enough to waste this opportunity. I would not wear out my entire time here on Midgard, in shoveling filth and carrying garbage.”

His gaze holds Rogers', and Loki knows his face is bland, his green eyes expressionless. Finally, Rogers turns toward Thor again. “Bruce says you don't have to go along. He says he'll watch Loki.” A short laugh. “He did a pretty good job before, if you remember. I think we can trust him. You can drop the clean-up crew as well. You've been really nice about that, but there's no need. Why don't you come work on the superhero's team with me?”

This is all that will be said to him isn't it, Loki realizes? He has been given orders. His now, to obey them. Friendly conversation, personal interest even, those are for others, not for him. Unbidden, his mind goes backward. He thinks about visiting the Starbucks with Tony and Bruce on Saturday: Almost, he can see their faces, attentive as he spoke about his past, and taste the strange, but not-unpleasant sweetness of the “cake pops”. Was that all a lie then? Which is the reality, that, or this uncaring disinterest?

Loki stands. His legs – His whole body. – feel stiff, brittle. “If you are finished with me good Captain?”

Thor gives Rogers a look, and Rogers gives him one back. “It's your decision, Thor.”

Thor’s brow is corrugated. He is torn no doubt, wondering if he dare take his rightful place with his fellow superheroes, yet fearful of what his evil, lying brother will do without hm there. “It is not that I do not trust Friend Bruce.” He frowns. “He has his own responsibilities. I would feel better were I...” 

“No.” No, a thousand times! Loki's own doubts vanish from his mind. His questions, – What demeaning duties have they found for him at this “hospital”? Who is to take charge of him, is it to be the Doctor, or the Beast? – all are gone, in his instinctive rejection of the Thunderer's suggestion. This is his chance to be free of Thor's heavy-handed intrusion. It is his chance to escape from his shadow. “There is no need.” He manages the bland smile that will achieve him his goal. “I understand my duty here on Midgard, and I serve as All-Father has ordered me to.” A look of appeal. Once, Thor would have believed it without question; can he still make that work? “How can I learn, my brother, if I am not given the chance to try?”

He watches the cloud that goes across the Thunderer's golden brow. Inwardly, he smiles. Thor looks at Rogers. “Friend Stephen, if you...” A nod from Rogers, good golden, virtuous Rogers who's heroism is matched only by his compassion. Thor smiles. “Then I offer my brother the same trust you do.”

Trust. Ha. The _trust_ of being watched by one who's Other Self can destroy him with one blow of his fist. Thor is indeed generous to extend such.

“Working at a hospital is going to be different from being on the clean-up crew...” Rogers puts up a hand, but Loki ignores it. He has had quite enough of the Golden Heroes for one evening.

“I assure you, I understand. Thank you, good Captain.” He bows. “Thank you, brother.” Another bow. 

Loki makes for his room, the small enclosure that has been vouchsafed him in this mortal enclosure. He would have a door between himself and the Golden Ones. He would have silence, that he may think. The indifference shown by Rogers and his brother cuts more deeply than he would have expected. He finds himself thinking of Banner – Of Bruce; he asked that Loki call him Bruce. – with longing, almost with fondness. Has he been brought so low, his situation so untenable, that he craves friendship from a mortal? From one of these weak beings whose lives begin and end in the time it takes him to ungird his armor? The crawling shame of it curdles in his stomach, but it wars there with another feeling. And yes, if he would be honest with himself, that feeling is a longing to be once again in the company of Bruce and Tony.

_______________________

They enter Midtown Medical Center through a lofty, high-ceilinged hallway, crowded with scurrying, white-coated mortals, and smelling faintly of fresh coffee. “Even here.” Loki looks around and spots a cart with a sign reading, “Coffee! Espresso! Lattes!”

Seeing his gaze, Bruce laughs shortly. “We're Americans. We can't survive without our coffee.”

He makes a sharp turn through double doors marked “Authorized personnel only.” When Loki hesitates, he takes his arm. 

“Yes, that means you. I already cleared it with Dr. Vang.”

The doors close behind them with a small sucking noise, and they're walking down an empty hallway. Another turn brings them to a conveyance Loki has learned to recognize as a “service elevator”. He rode many such when he was working with the clean-up crew.

One floor up, or two floors ...or perhaps ten or more. It is difficult to gauge distances, when so much depends upon the speed of the elevator. They are disgorged into another empty hallway, this one leading – Eventually – to a veritable hive of rooms, small, and packed close-together, and smelling of Midgardian chemicals.

“The hospital lets us run our clinic out of here.”

Their “clinic”.

Another mortal bustles up, stout and officious, and peering at Loki through thick, Midgardian glasses. “You're Loki?”

The war-criminal, yes. The alien who failed in his plans of world-domination. The pathetic entity who was defeated by “Earth's Mightiest Heroes”. “I am.”

The stout doctor nods. “Good. Dr. Banner tells me you're going to catch us up on our filing.” He puts out a hand. “I'm Dr. Vang.”

“What is this 'filing'?” There is no point asking Dr. Vang, who vanishes as quickly as he appeared, after he has introduced himself. Loki addresses the question to Bruce, or rather, to his back, as he leads him quickly down another hallway, and into a room filled with stacked papers, and metal drawers. The open door allows view of white-clad mortals leading others, garbed in street-clothes, this way and that. A window in one wall shows the backs of several mortal women, who supervise what looks like a living room, in which more mortals are seated.

“The waiting room.” Bruce gestures. “Cindy and Blanca are nice enough to give their time to help us process our patients.”

They _process_ them. It sounds more disrespectful than anything Loki did during the invasion.

“Filing's a problem though. It's hard to get a volunteer who's any good.” From the hallway, Bruce waves in another mortal. She is older, careworn in her face. Truth to tell, she brings to mind Frigga, who called herself his mother while he was growing up in Asgard although of course, as a mortal, she is weaker and more limited. “This is Angela. She's in charge of filing in Ob/Gyn. – That's childbirth, Loki. She said she could spare a day to teach you the system the hospital uses.”

“Hello, Loki.” The mortal woman's hand is soft like Frigga's. Like his adoptive mother too, her smile, which is warm, but with no nonsense in it. “Have you ever done any filing before?”

The words of condescension tremble upon his lips. He is a Prince of Asgard; such menial labor is beneath him. Only the thought of the other, yet more degrading duty, from which Bruce has rescued him, keeps him silent.

“Alphabetizing?” Angela studies him doubtfully. “Bruce says you've spent a lot of time in libraries?”

Loki sweeps a gaze over her shoulder, studying the small room. The metal drawers are labeled, tagged with a complex code of letters and numbers. Other letters on the tan folders that are piled everywhere correspond. “I am being asked to put these 'files' away as though they were books in a library?”

She gives a short laugh. “Dr. Banner said you weren't from around here. It's a little more complicated than that, but that's basically the gist of it. People who are used to finding things in a library seem to pick up the system easier.” 

Understanding flares in Loki's mind: Was this then, why Bruce was so ready to take him to the library on Saturday? Was he screening him for this new task? It is menial in the extreme, and yet it bids fair to be a cleaner, quieter labor than the one he did before. He gives Angela a practiced smile. “Most happily will I learn this 'filing' system, and you are kind enough to teach it.”

Angela laughs again. “You're _really_ not from around here. Yeah, I'll be 'kind enough to teach you'.” She jerks her head toward the waiting room and, following her gaze, Loki spies a large metal container, emitting the aroma of yet more coffee. “Want some coffee before we get started?”

“You mortals seem to run on your coffee.” Loki follows Angela into the waiting room and watches as she pushes the spigot and fills paper cups for them both. 

“Mortals?” She pauses, a container labeled “sugar” in her hand, and looks at him. Loki waits for the recoil, the horror and fear that should be filling her face as she realizes his identity. Almost, he wants them. Then Angela goes back to pouring sugar. “Yeah that's right, Dr. Banner told me: You're that Loki.” She moves the sugar container toward his cup. “What do you want in your coffee?”

He is _that Loki_ , yes. This mortal woman is insane, if she thinks he has changed at all. ...But she has heard, no doubt, about the bracelets he is forced to wear. That is why she feels no fear at his presence. Loki fingers them, where they protrude below his sleeves.

“You're doing the right thing, making up for what you did.” Angela floats whitish powder on top of  
her coffee and stirs it in. “Not everybody would do that.” She hands him his cup. “Well, come on.  
Those files aren't going to put themselves away.”

Loki grows tired of being taken for granted by these mortals. On the work-crew, he was Thor's obedient shadow. What is he to the people here? Some sort of crawling, sniveling scribe, ever ready to serve the demands of those above him? Are they really so quick to forget the god who would have conquered them? Meekly, he trots behind bland-Angela, who cares more for her coffee and her precious files, than for the fact that she has a captive war-criminal serving under her. “Right away, of course. We must ever maintain control over the files.”

Back in the room with the drawers, Angela moves stacks of papers to reveal the surface of one small table. “This is your spot, Loki.” She gulps some of her coffee. “Better move a chair in here. This is the only space you're going to have, until all this is put away.” She waves her hand, indicating the heaps of unsorted papers that cover every available surface.

“Here, let me show you a file.” Angela opens a drawer at random and pulls out a tan folder stuffed with paper. Noting his stare, she laughs. “You think this is bad, you should see a regular hospital file. We've got to have all this information about insurance, and eligibility, and who's going to pay if the insurance company denies claims... This is easy, Loki. Because the clinic's not connected to the hospital, all you need in the files is the patient's contact information, medical history, and records of the treatment he gets here.” 

She opens the folder, flipping pages. “See, the insurance records are here. Not all the files will have those. Some patients don't have insurance. But I'm glad Dr. Vang and Dr. Banner have been collecting the info anyway. I hear the hospital and the clinic will be consolidating later on, and then we're going to need it.”

She flips more pages. “Here's the medical history. See where it's laid out chronologically. Here's documentation of past treatment. Here's where the nurses' intake-reports go, and here's the doctors' treatment-notes.”

“Consolidating.” Loki does his best to pay attention to this, which is to be his job. It is difficult to take it all seriously, when he thinks of mortals and their tiny, short lives. Why so much trouble, for beings that will be gone in a heartbeat? “What does 'consolidating' mean?”

“Well right now the clinic operates independently.”

She said this already. Loki holds back his impatience.

“SHIELD set it up with the hospital. Dr. Banner and Dr. Vang... Well everybody in here really, the girls in the front office, and the nurses that give their off-hours, and me... We volunteer the time we can to keep it running. But we're almost done taking care of the first-stage injuries. After that, it will be just the people with long-term problems. That's really more the hospital's job. – It's a transition, Loki. We're transitioning from the clinic, which handled emergencies, to the hospital, which will handle everything else. -- But the first step is to get these files organized.”

Oh yes, the _files_. He stifles a yawn.

Angela looks at him. “These are important, and you'd better get them right. Everything has to be complete, and everything has to be where it belongs. What do you think would happen if the doctor needed some vital information and he couldn't find it, because _you'd_ gotten creative?”

“I assure you, good lady, that were I to get 'creative'...”

She snorts. “Just follow my instructions. Don’t start any systems on your own, don’t mix up the color codes and don’t get sloppy on the alphabetizing. You got that?”

Of course. He is not a fool.

“Personal information goes at the top: First the contact information, then the insurance information, or how the patient is going to be paying. Get used to doing it right now, Loki, because I guarantee, once the clinic is part of the hospital, that stuff's going to matter. After that comes the medical history. If there's gaps, it's going to be your job to get in touch with the patient's previous doctors...”

His job, his job, his job... This is not like putting books away in a library, this petty retrieval of the smallest petty details in the lives of mortals who will likely die before their files are complete.

“You getting all this, Loki?” Angela looks at him and he is quick to nod confirmation. This is going to be a very, very long day.


	7. The Best-Laid Plans of Mice and Geniuses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony set up his Valentines date with Bruce so perfectly, so fucking perfectly. How could it have gone so wrong?

What's convenient, is that when Thor decides he's going back to Asgard, it's just a week before Valentine's Day. He announces it while they're at breakfast: “I am delighted by how well my brother has settled in here on Midgard.” – Audible snort from Loki, but whether it's because Thor dares call him “brother”, or because he would presume to be “delighted” about something he did, who can tell? – “Father asked that I report back.” – There's another snort. This would be because he mentioned Odin. – “He will be happy to hear the good news I am bringing him.”

“So, you're leaving?” That's Cap. He's worried about how much food to get for the next week is what Tony's thinking. Then he continues: “You'll stay until we finish work on 97th Street, won't you?” And that's another theory shot down.

“Most assuredly I will stay.”

Turns out work's going to be finished on the 12th, maybe the 13th if Mr. Fantastic's not back from Latveria by Monday. Turns out they're going out the night of the 14th too, to celebrate a job well done. All of a sudden, the Tower's starting to sound very, very empty.

Tony's already made plans for Valentine's Day himself. He's taking Bruce out. – Finally! -- They were going to finish up at a hotel he knows about, but Tony never liked that part much. Bruce would feel way more comfortable at home, and he's more likely to ...shall we say _cuddle_ , if he's feeling comfortable. A nice big empty Tower is just what this Valentine's Day date needs.

“You'll come, won't you?” Steve asks Thor, and inwardly, Tony grins.

“Forgive me my friend, but I would not.” It's going to be the hotel after all, Tony just has time to think, then Thor continues: “I depart Friday morning. Ere I go, I would spend my last evening here with my brother. It is the last time will see him in a long time,” – His voice gets that choked sound it always gets when he talks about Loki. – “and I would say good-bye properly.”

Oh, that one's going to go down _so well_. Tony doesn't have to look to know how Loki's rolling his eyes, and he doesn't have to listen to know he's snorting like a bull in heat.

“Of course you do Thor,” he says. “Family's important.” Inwardly he's asking himself: _What can I promise Loki so he'll agree to this?_ Another trip to the Library? No, Bruce says he's already going there on the subway, practically every day after work. Maybe if he takes him in the car, so he can get a million books like the other time... Or if he promises to cook him dinner? This is just too good of an opportunity to bring Bruce back to a perfectly empty Tower after dinner. He's going to make it happen no matter what it takes.

Turns out he's pretty decent about it when he asks him. “The Thunderer's pretense that we are family sickens me. I will not be able to eat for listening to his prating.” Loki cocks a green-eyed glance his way. There's a reason he's called the Sly One, Tony thinks. “And there were a proper dinner waiting for me when I returned...” He eyes Tony again.

“Steakhouse on 12th Street. You remember the place?”

Loki's lips turn up in a little smile. “Where they said the Porterhouse was for two, and Thor ate the whole thing.”

“And he couldn't finish the 24-layer chocolate cake afterward.” Tony nods. “What do you want me to get you?”

Loki likes lobsters. He says a couple of those will make sure he stays out with Thor a _long_ , long time. He also says an order of profiteroles will make sure he's out all night, but that's overdoing things, considering Steve's coming home after his party.

“For a God of Chaos, you're surprisingly easy to deal with.”

Tony's expecting some kind of snarky answer, but surprisingly, Loki turns away. He mumbles something like, “Bruce deserves some fun,” but it's so out-of-character for him that he's sure he misheard.

Then Valentine's Day comes. Someone must have mentioned what the significance of the day is to Loki, one of the ladies at the clinic, probably, because he's this close to backing out on his dinner with Thor lobsters or no lobsters. He folds his arms and gets that balky look of his on his face. “The idea that onlookers might think there is something romantic between us, Thunderer...”

“Nothing!” Thor's cleaned up pretty good, in one of the suits Tony bought Steve when he first moved in (because if you'd left it up to him, he'd probably have a wardrobe full of nothing but Zoot Suits or something). “I assure you brother, the thought couldn't be further from my mind!”

“On Midgard, I have seen many romances between man and man.”

“But not between brothers. Loki, please!”

It's up to Tony to smooth things down of course. He explains to little Prince Stubborn that as long as nobody knows he's not _really_ Thor's brother, they're not going to think a thing about them being together. This provokes its own mini-explosion, naturally, so he talks double-fast about lobsters, then promises the profiteroles after all, just if Loki will do it.

“I'll go,” Loki grumps, “and I will stay as long as I can. But I won't like it.” _Yeah,_ Tony thinks, _but I'll like it. I'll like it just fine._

Bruce cleans up pretty good too, in a dark suit with a white shirt, and a little nick on the edge of his jaw that he probably got shaving, that makes Tony want to kiss it. ...Only then he probably wouldn't be able to stop. And then they'd be late for their dinner reservations. Plus maybe Bruce wouldn't like it.

He smiles as they sit down at their table in the restaurant. “So the genius Tony Stark finally managed to figure out what Bruce Banner's favorite food is.”

“Steak. Who'd have thought?” Tony picks up a menu. “You know I never would have figured you for a meat eater.”

Bruce picks up his. “There are a lot of things you don't know about me, Tony.”

_That's because you don't let me come in when you're naked._ He holds back the joke-y response. This isn't a night for him teasing and Bruce getting pissed off. It's not a night for push-push-pushing and then getting nothing but no's. 

“You going to let me know some of them?” A server comes up for their drinks order. Tony motions him to wait. “Because I'm tired of checking your Wikipedia page for new information.”

So much for Tony Stark holding back the jokes. Bruce laughs, so it's okay though. Tony looks from him, up at the server.

“Would you care for the wine list?”

He looks at Bruce. “What do you say? Just a little? Because it's Valentine's Day?”

“And in return you skip the hard liquor before, during and after dinner?” Bruce nods. “That's a compromise I can live with. – Nothing too strong, okay?”

The server sets them up with a Cabernet. Something uncomplicated and fruity, but not too embarrassing to get caught drinking. He brings steaks cooked nice and rare, and then he leaves them blessedly alone.

It's just him and the guy with the big green monster inside. Finally he's got the face-time he's been wanting, and for once Bruce doesn't seem to mind.

He cuts into his steak. “It's because I'm a challenge, isn't it?” Forks up some meat. “That's why you're still interested?”

_Perish the thought._ Again, he bites back the glib response. He's not serious enough, Bruce'll be running for the hills. “Maybe. A little.” Tony gestures with his fork. “Give me a little credit. Most of the time if someone says no, I just go find somebody else.”

“And there's always somebody else when you're Tony fuckin' Stark.” Bruce gives him a little bit of a grin.

“Yeah.”

They eat for a few minutes in silence. Bruce is enjoying the steak. He drinks his first glass of wine, then he actually lets Tony pour him another one. 

“You know Betty finally gave up on me. I just got an email that she's seeing somebody else.” Betty Ross. Bruce's ex-girlfriend, who's dad chased him all those years. His voice is casual, but Tony knows he's saying something important. “It wasn't the long-distance thing. It's that when I moved back to the States, I didn't get in touch with her.”

Pepper would stare if she saw how seriously he takes it. Tony puts down his fork. “Why didn't you?”

Bruce shrugs. He looks down at his food. “I don't know. This is the most stable my life's been in years, but...” Suddenly he looks up and his eyes meet Tony's. “ _You_ know why I didn't,” he says.

_No, I don't. I really, really don't._ Bruce isn't saying... Tony looks into the brown eyes behind the glasses. “Tony fuckin' Stark? Seriously Bruce? This is how you tell me?”

“That I'm getting used to being chased by you? That I maybe want to find out what would happen if I stopped running and let you catch me? When's a better time to tell you than Valentine's Day?” There's a frown on Bruce's face. That's the only thing wrong with what he's saying. 

“You don't have to sound so serious about it.” Bruce isn't used to _not_ running, is he? How do you catch a guy like that and make him like it? Tony pours more of the fruity wine for himself. Last glass. He signals the waiter over to bring more. “Nothing's going to happen tonight unless you want it too.”

“I want it.” The words sound like they're being squeezed out, past layers of fear and denial and ...running. “I don't know about...” _...About the Other Guy,_ that's what Bruce wants to say. “Remember what happened when he got hold of Loki?”

_But I'm not Loki..._

“All he understands is anger and smashing. If he feels there's a threat...”

What is it with Bruce? He's Tony fuckin' Stark. If he can't get who he wants, there's always someone else, right? So why's he here working through all these layers of fear and whatever? Isn't there somewhere else he could be? Someone else who would have said yes by now?

But he's still here. – Why? – He's still looking across the table at Bruce, who's staring down into his glass. It can't be all about the winning, because surely he of all people knows that after a certain point the smart thing to do is to cut your losses. But if it's not that, then what is it? What makes this one man, with the worried look in his brown eyes, more interesting than all the other men and women in the city?

“You ever try the Other Guy?”

“What?” Bruce looks at him. 

The server comes with their wine. He clears their plates. Tony barely notices. “How do you know he'd think I'm a threat?” Reaching across the table, he takes Bruce's hand. There are some burns on the knuckles. Those are from when he used the blowtorch on the Chitauri skin-samples. Nice, rough scientist's hand, that belongs to a man with a real mind... “We won't do anything threatening, I promise.”

Bruce's other hand comes up and covers Tony's. They look like a real couple for a change. It would be awful cute if someone snapped a picture. His brown eyes meet Tony's blue ones, and for a moment it's like looking into the promise of happiness. Then Bruce speaks: “But you'll be naked.”

_Both of us will be. Isn't that kind of the point?_

“Without the suit.” Bruce gestures vaguely. “Anything could happen. Like when you fell out of the portal.”

“I was...” Tony's words trail off as he sees Bruce's point.

“Yeah, you were wearing the suit. What would have happened to you if you'd fallen like that without it?”

And what would happen if Hulk got hold of him and he wasn't wearing it, yeah. 

“Okay, I can see your point.” He can see it, but it's not going to stop him. Goddammit, he's Tony fuckin' Stark. The problem hasn't been born that he couldn't solve.

“I won't piss him off, Bruce.”

“Because not pissing people off is what you're best at, Tony. Ri-iii-iiight.”

“At least give me a chance.” Tony opens Bruce's hand, massages the calluses on the palm, the rough, skilled fingers. He smiles into his brown eyes. “You know you want to.”

“In a minute you're going to say 'what's the worst that could happen', and we both know what that is.” Bruce makes to pull away. Then he lets his hand stay where it is. It's a victory, a little one. Sort of a starter-victory. 

“No. In a minute I'm going to say do you want some dessert? We could take it home with us and share it back at the Tower.”

Bruce's hand is still in his. Tony slides his chair closer, moves his hands to his shoulders. “Lot of tension here. I give a pretty good back-rub.”

“Tony, please. We're in public.” It's not _let go of me_ , not completely. This is a step in the right direction, finally.

“Yeah, on Valentine's Day. We're making everybody else jealous.”

Tony's fingers find the knots right behind Bruce's shoulderblades. It's not really that inappropriate to rub another guy's shoulders in a restaurant. He could be giving him big sloppy kisses. Or feeling him up.

“You want your privacy so bad, let's go home,” he says. “I'll make you feel so good the Hulk wouldn't think of wanting out.”

Bruce can say what he wants, but he's leaning into Tony's touch. He wants this. They both do. “I'll put the bracelet on for the suit,” Tony tells him. “You know, just in case. Let me order us some dessert to take home. What do you want? I'm already getting Loki some profiteroles.”

“Ice cream.” Is that a smile he hears in Bruce's voice? “I guess that makes sense for a Frost Giant.”

“Don't call him that to his face.” Tony brushes just the faintest kiss, not the kind that would embarrass a guy in public or anything, behind Bruce's ear. “He's got his own ways of Hulking out. – You're a chocolate guy, right? What say I get the 24-layer cake?”

“The one Thor couldn't...” –

“Yeah, the one Thor couldn't finish the other time. I'll help you finish yours.”

“Chocolate's good for soothing monsters.” Bruce still sounds a little dubious, but his head's against Tony's shoulder, and his body is starting to feel properly relaxed for a change. 

Monsters. Everyone's so hung up on the idea of monsters. It's like they scare themselves before they even get in the situation. And most of the time the real monster turns out to have been there all along. He's the nice-looking guy in the suit that made the plans that got everyone into the whole fucked-up situation in the first place.

Wine makes him philosophical. That's why he should stick to bourbon. Tony signals the server over. He pulls out his cell and calls Happy, gets him to come in for the bag with Loki's lobsters and the two dessert orders before he pulls the car up to the door.

“What's good for soothing super-genius scientists who can't relax and trust their friends?” 

“Friends?” Bruce looks at him. His expression has changed. Has it grown more relaxed? That can't all be just his imagination.

“For now. It's up to you if that changes.” 

“No.” Bruce's voice is soft, but not too soft for him to hear. “Not up to me, Tony.”

The back seat of the car is warm and dark. How many people have been back here with him while Happy drove them someplace? Tony doesn't like to think. And where are they all now? Does he care? Hell, most of them, he didn't even care where they were the next day. No wonder Bruce thinks this is just a game for him.

He slides a little closer. Bruce is way over on his side of the car. He puts up a hand as soon as Tony even moves. “Not now. Not yet, okay?”

Then when? “Sure, fine, no problem.” He slides just a hand across. Bruce lets him take his, but this time it doesn't feel like progress. “Let's just talk.”

“About what?” In the darkness, Bruce's voice is gruff.

_About the Hulk..._ Tony's talked to Natasha about what happened on the heli-carrier. He's always sort of had the impression the power of suggestion had a lot to do with it. Sort of like the old mind-game where you tell someone not to think of an elephant. As long as Bruce's Other Guy is the elephant nobody's allowed to talk about, they're just going to keep on having problems with him, aren't they?

“I don't know...” Tony thinks for a minute. “About Loki,” he says at random, “there, how's that? We'll talk about Loki, we'll go home. I'll put the bracelet on and we'll start again on our other conversation.” 

He can hear Bruce breathing, but he can't really see him in the dark car. “I don't want to talk about Loki.” 

Why the fuck is this up to him? Oh yeah right, this was his idea. “You know what we ought to talk about, Bruce.”

“Stop.” Bruce's hand comes up fast. Real fast, like his reactions are speeding up. Tony doesn't like to think what that might mean. “Don't go there, Tony.”

_Why not? If not now Bruce, then when?_

“We're in a fucking car.” His breath's coming faster too, and his voice sounds hoarse. “I don't want to talk about ... _him_. I don't even want to think about him. And you better not either.”

Flashes of light from the streets just barely show Bruce. Tony sees his chest rising and falling, his fists, reflexively clenching and un-clenching. “All this crap about Tony-Stark-there's-no-problem-he-can't-solve: Tony, it means nothing. You and me, we're two men being held back by the same monster. But you want to know the difference Tony? Do you?”

No. Not right now... They've still got how much longer of the drive to go? It's just five minutes or so, judging from the buildings he sees go by outside the window, but at the rate Bruce is getting himself worked up, who knows what that's enough time for? 

“The difference is, there's always going to be somebody else for you.” He throws the words. There's real anger in his voice. It's the first time Tony's heard him really get mad, and so far it hasn't led to any Hulking. ...That he can see. “You're going to give up on me,” Bruce says. “Just like Betty did. Just like everybody does. Eventually. Maybe you'll take longer about it. You're _Tony fuckin' Stark_. And then you know what? There'll be another bimbo waiting right there. Any babe you want will fall at your feet, any hot guy that suits your interest...”

“I want you, Bruce.”

“You want me now.” Bruce turns toward him, and Tony can't help staring. Are his eyes greener than usual? Is his face changing? So far there's still nothing. – He thinks. – Nothing except one man, looking frustrated and miserable, and so unhappy Tony wants to take him in his arms and hug the pain away. ...Only he can't help thinking about what would happen if he did that. “I loved Betty,” Bruce says. “We were everything to each other, all through college. She always said she'd wait for me, no matter how long it took. But she gave up on me. And you know what, I don't blame her. Who wants to live with ... _Him_?”

Tony feels a bump as the car goes onto a ramp. They're in the parking garage back at the Tower. Finally. The car suddenly gets a lot darker, just the dim security lights overhead. Now he can't see what Bruce is doing. …What he's changing into. “Bruce, quit it. You’re a scientist. you can approach problems rationally.” – Yeah, like he's doing: Letting his imagination run wild. Tony thinks about the bracelet that summons his suit. He lets his mind form the picture. It's better than other images that are going through his mind right now. “Let's talk about this,” he says. “You and me. When we get upstairs.”

“No.”

The car takes a curve. Executive Parking is at the very back of the first level, next to the elevators. Beside him, Tony can hear Bruce breathing, roughly, tensely. Is he going to give up and let the Hulk scare him away? Isn't there always going to be something that stops him if he does?

“Bruce, I want you. I've been trying every way I can to get that through to you. Now that I have, do you really think I'm going to back down? Would you respect me if I did?”

The car stops. A wedge of light is Happy opening the door for him. He sees his driver's quick glance Bruce's way. “Do ya want me to stick around for a while Tony?”

“No.” As soon as the word's out of Tony's mouth, he regrets it. Maybe he needs some back-up, just to be safe. But safe's never been his goal in life up to now, why change that? “You can go on home, Happy.”

“Go ahead, _Tony_.” Bruce's door opens so hard Tony can feel the car go off-balance for a moment. “One more layer of protection, right?” He gets out. – Does Tony feel that too? Are those Bruce-feet or Hulk-feet that land on the parking garage floor? – He huffs a snort that might be a laugh. “You need more than a condom to fuck a monster.”

“You sure, Tony?” 

Tony looks into Happy's dubious face. _No my friend, I am not sure. Not sure at all._ “Yeah,” he says anyway. Let Bruce run away again this time, he's always going to be running, isn't he? He'll create his own future of being alone. And Tony fuckin' Stark isn't ready to let that happen.

He hears Bruce's stomping footsteps headed for the elevators, and he makes a rush to follow. Bruce already has one of the elevators open. “You're not going in here Tony,” he growls. “Just back off, okay?”

“Other elevator, yeah. Once we get upstairs though, then we talk...” Bruce's elevator slides shut, cutting him off.


	8. The Other Guy.  And Chocolate Cake ...And Loki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How to avert total disaster? Bruce is surprised to find out that the answer to that question includes Loki.

_Talk._ Oh yes, they're going to _talk._ Stupid Tony, always pestering him, and now he thinks _talking_ is the way to keep down a monster. ...The way to stop the Other Guy. Bruce hears his other self rumbling and grumbling all the way up in the elevator. The Other Guy _hates_ being pushed, and nagged at. He hates all the...

...All the _demands_ that are coming from Tony, that Bruce feels like he's got to give in to. – _That he wants to give in to._ – He hates how it keeps on going, and it doesn't go away, and it won't stop. And he hates being closed in the goddamn elevator. How's a guy supposed to have a relationship, when he can't fucking even ride up an elevator without problems? What planet is fucking Tony Stark from, that he thinks this even has a chance of working?

He's from fucking Mars, that's it. He's from one of the outer goddamn gas giants... – No, he's from Pluto. He's so far out he's not even on a planet any more, just this crazy-ass dumbshit fucking ...goober, who thinks, “Oh, I'm Tony Stark! I'm so much god's gift to the world that even the Hulk's going to be impressed! We're not going to have any _problems_ Problems? What are those? Those are for other people.”

There's a ping. The elevator door opens. Well that's one thing anyway, no more four walls to make the Other Guy nervous. Now he can spread out and be nervous all over the goddamn Tower. There can be one more floor that's too busted-up to use. Yay.

Bruce stomps out into the fancy-ass lobby where all the executives used to get out of their goddamn elevator. All that glass. All those fucking _plants_ , in their fucking decorative _planters_ Pretty. Look goddamn good after the Hulk gets through with them. He goes past the stupid-ass reception desk where some goddamn receptionist probably used to screen all the bigwigs' calls. Now it's where everybody leaves the mail and whatever junk they're not using. On his way past, he puts out an arm, sweeping a big pile of it onto the floor. Clean that up, Tony fuckin' Stark.

Inside, he can feel the Other Guy. He wants out, oh god _damn_ but he wants out! Bruce needs someplace quiet where he can just sit for a while, or maybe he needs to go to his room and meditate... Or maybe he doesn't give a shit. If Tony comes up here... If he says one fuckin' _word_ to him... Well then he'll deserve what comes next, now won't he?

Back at the back there's the conference room that they've set up as a living space. Good thing it's the executives' floor, that means there's some room up here. Bruce goes down the last hall and comes in to where Tony's moved all his own plush-ass furniture from the penthouse (as if whatever plush-ass furniture all his executives used wasn't good enough for him). He ignores the kitchen. Had enough goddamn food for one night, and heads on into the living room. It's not until he's close that he sees a head over the top of the couch. Oh fuck, there's somebody else here.

Not just anybody, it's goddamn Loki. With those bracelets of Odin's on, Hulk's going to make mincemeat of him. Serves him the fuck right...

Bruce thinks it. Then the thought dies away. Whatever else you can say about the God of Chaos, you can't say that any of what's happening here is his fault.

“Loki.” He stomps around the sofa and looks at him.

“Bruce.” The face that looks back is just as angry as he feels. Great. Now this is all going to be about _him_ , isn't it?

“What are you doing here?” Wrong question: He knows it as soon as the words are out of his mouth. Way to go, Brucie. Like he needs an excuse to start whining about his bad day.

“I have returned from seeing my brother off to Asgard.” Loki flicks a look at him, some sort of a guilty look. What the fuck does he have to feel guilty about? And why the fuck should Bruce even care? “I had meant to stay longer, but there was only so long the Golden One wished to remain, once he realized I'd not mourn his absence.”

Oh waaah waaah, brother troubles. How many times have we all heard this before? “In other words, Thor's gone,” Bruce cuts him off. Great. That leaves him with who? Just Loki and Tony tonight, unless Steve gets home a lot earlier from that party than he said he was going to. Hulk's going to go through them like a John Deere through a ripe cornfield. It's going to be a massacre.

...No. It's not. Not if he can get the fuck away from Loki and find some privacy.

“Yes, and I thank every deity for it.” Bitter, snarly Baby Brother's still talking. “If I'd had to listen to any more of his pompous, self-centered speeches, I'd have lunged for his throat.”

“Yeah.” He can hear the Other Guy inside. He wants out. He wants out in the worst kind of way. There's smashing coming. Bruce throws a quick glance at the window past Loki's shoulder. How fast can Tony get the suit on and rescue him, once Hulk throws him out of there? No, Bruce, no. He's not going there. He doesn't have to. He turns away. And there's a big part of him that doesn't want to, oh, such a very, very _big_ part. “Yeah, you do that Loki. You do it. Whatever.” 

“You look angry.” Loki's voice comes at him muted, through a blur of Hulk-noise. Bruce turns. – Is it him turning, or is it the Other Guy? – “What's wrong, Bruce?” says his ~~little victim~~ ...houseguest... No, friend... ~~**No, something to _smash_!!!**~~ He sees Loki's eyes grow big. The green must be showing now. _Good._ What was it he did to him the last time? He'll think it was a walk in the park after he's finished tonight. 

“Bruce...” **Little, pouty mouth, Loki's got. Little pouty, _scared_ mouth like a baby's, and the big, round eyes... Only mouth not move when he talk. _Why?_** Then there's fingers on his shoulders. **How come? Whose fingers?**

“Bruce, take it easy big guy, it's all right!”

_**Tony.**_ It's Bruce that turns around to see him. – It is still him doing it, right? ...Mostly? – “You two just couldn't leave it alone, could you? You just had to keep pushing and pushing... Let's all play poke-the-monster-and-see-if-he-comes-out. Newsflash, Tony fuckin' Stark: He's out, and he's coming for your ass.”

“No Bruce, he is not. Not yet.” **Different voice. Sounds like Thor. Not Thor. Thor not here.** There's other fingers on him now, coming from the other side. _**Loki?**_

“You'd better let the fuck go of me, Loki,” _Bruce_ says. “You remember what happened last time.”

“Nay, for Tony...”

Tony what? **Tony _where_???**

Then there's Tony right in front of him. “Just had to get the bracelet.” He offers a weak ~~pussy-ass~~ grin. “Natasha's right Bruce. You can get pretty scary.”

Bracelet. That controls the suit. Bruce looks at him. “You'd better get the suit on, Tony. And get Loki out of here. He's helpless right now.” _**Helpless, puny god...**_

“Not yet.” “I will not go.” Two voices at the same time. Two voices that aren't pushing, but they're not screaming with fear either. Does the Other Guy hear them too? _**Yes, Hulk hears.**_

A picture flashes through his head. – His head? Somebody's head? – **_Iron Man fall from sky like red-and-gold star. Him catch. Him save, right? Before crash on ground._** “Pretty-colored armor...” It's not him that says it. Bruce turns his head. There's ~~Puny god~~ Loki. “Why's he still here?” 

“Here's the sofa.” Fingers on his shoulders, pushing. “Why don't we sit down for a while?” Push-push-pushing... Bruce pulls away.

“I can sit down for myself.”

“We don't have to talk right now, Bruce.” Tony's voice. “It can wait.”

Soft cushions under his fingers ~~and the Other Guy's~~. Pillows against his back. Fingers on one arm, two... Bruce looks. Loki's still here. Why?

“You don't believe he's coming, do you?” ~~He's not.~~ “You underestimated him last time too.”

“We're your friends, Bruce. Me and...” – Slight pause. Incredulous look. – “...Me and Loki.”

“I will prepare some tea.” Loki's voice. Loki? Their spoiled houseguest making tea for him?

Rattles, bangs come from the kitchen. Bruce – _Bruce!_ – lets out an unwilling chuckle. “You'd better stop him before he blows the place up. Can't JARVIS make the tea, Tony?” 

Then a voice comes: “This bag, what is it, pray?”

“That would be your dinner,” Tony calls into the kitchen. “Sorry. – I completely forgot about it.”

There are more rattles, the crackling of plastic and styrofoam, then Loki comes back into the room. “The profiteroles were melted.” His voice is disapproving. “They leaked into the lobsters. I salvaged this.” He holds up a opened styrofoam box with a big piece of cake in it.”

Weak grin from Tony. “Guess that's your dinner then. Sorry.”

Loki sits down. “Mayhap we can share it.” He hands around forks. “I did eat when I was out with Thor, albeit I was too _disgusted_ by his moralizing to enjoy my meal.”

“Share.” Bruce feels shaky, exhausted. He feels himself again, which is something, but he feels as worn out as if he had been Hulk, and he'd just knocked over half of Manhattan. “Funny, that's not a word I ever expected to hear you say, Loki.”

Wry look from ~~the puny god~~ Loki. “You think me incapable of friendship?”

Most of the time, he wouldn't push the issue, but one thing about coming this close to the edge, then not going over, is it leaves him feeling kind of reckless. “With other gods, maybe,” he says. “But with mortals, no. I always got the impression you thought of us as pretty inferior. Like bugs.”

Tony's warning voice: “Bruce.” Since when is Tony all about protecting Loki's little feelings? “I don't think...”

“You don't think what?” Bruce turns the fork Loki handed him over in his hands. “I'm surprised, is all.” He looks at Loki. “I expected Tony to stay, but I didn't expect you to. Why did you, Loki? You had to have known the Other Guy could crush you with one hand.”

“Why?” Strange how the look that flashes across Loki's face is almost sad. 

Bruce presses it. “We're just mortals. You're a god.” Going on impulse, he reaches out and touches the bracelets on Loki's wrists. “Those aren't going to be there forever.” 

Weirder still, when Loki's hand comes up and touches his on top of the bracelet. “Whatever I were to say,” he says, “you would think it a lie. Like Thor...”

_Like his brother did tonight: That's what he's not saying._

Weirdest of all: Somehow he's holding Loki's hand. Across Tony's lap, and that cake of Loki's is about to fall onto the floor. “You're saying we're friends? You're friends with a mortal?” – He looks at Tony. – “With two mortals, Loki?”

“No.” Loki's mouth just forms the word. “Not with... – How can I be friends with such as you, who will die – leave – when I am still a young man?” The unhappiness is strong on his face and, with it, confusion.

_Oh Loki, if you knew how often friends leave!_ Bruce doesn't push any further. His hand tightens around Loki's, then after a moment Loki's tightens as well. Neither of them says anything, but after a while some of the sadness leaves Loki's face.

“This much-vaunted _cake_ my brother was so impressed by.” He pulls his hand free and picks up the styrofoam carton from the table, where Tony's set it. “It is over-large, and will undoubtedly disappoint.”

Somehow Tony's arm slides around Bruce's shoulder. ...Somehow Bruce doesn't mind. “It's chocolate,” Tony says.

“Chocolate.” The big sofa's designed for relaxing and sitting close together. It's like Tony bought it on purpose so he could get as close as possible to his dates. So why's Loki cuddled almost as close as Bruce, on the other side? ...Why does it seem right for him to be? “It is a pastry.” Loki forks a piece. “How good can it be?” He puts it into his mouth and then his eyes go wide.

“ _This_ is chocolate?” He's got chocolate crumbs on his lips. Suddenly Bruce wants to reach out and thumb them away. Where did that idea come from?

“You never had it before?” Tony's fiddling with the remote for the laser screen. Noise starts. Some kind of super-hero movie. Not interesting, but it makes good background-sound.

Loki shakes his head. He swallows, looking a little uncomfortable. “I was ...busy when I was on Midgard before. I did not have time to eat much.”

_Or at all,_ Bruce thinks, remembering some of the things Clint's told him. No wonder he looked so thin, and sick, by the end.

“Consider this part of your education.” He forks up some cake for himself. Tony's arm is a comfortable weight around his shoulders. Why did it seem so important, just a little while ago, for them to know just exactly where this relationship was going, and just exactly what the Other Guy would do every step along the way? What they've got is good, why start worrying about the future? Besides, JARVIS can get the suit to Tony in time if there's trouble. 

The crumbs are still on Loki's mouth. Little dots of sweetness, against his soft, red lips... Where the hell did that thought come from? He's definitely been around Tony too long. “You've got chocolate on your lips,” he says.

Loki puts out a pink tongue to lick it away, which somehow just fires up the pervert-Tony thoughts even stronger. What the hell, why not just go with them? “Plus you look like a porn star when you do that,” he says.

Loki blinks. “A porn _star_?”

Bruce feels the vibration of Tony's laugh run through his own body. It's actually a pretty good feeling. “Something good little Norse gods don't know anything about.” He looks at Bruce. “I didn't think good little nerd-scientists did either. Bruce, you have any more surprises for me tonight?”

“You patronize me.” Loki frowns. “Is this a question I should not ask? What is a porn star, and why do you compare me to one?” 

_Oh yes Loki, it's a question you shouldn't ask._ It's the last of the Other Guy's stress, that's why he feels shaky and reckless at the same time. That's why his mind is still on Loki's red lips, and how that pink tongue of his would feel if they kissed. It's why he can't keep his eyes away.

“Bruce?” Tony's voice is light, but his eyes are on Bruce, and there's an interested look starting on his face. “What's on your mind?”

Bruce smiles. _Wouldn't you like to know, Tony!_ “A porn star, Loki,” – He keeps his voice neutral, science-y. – “is a person who earns their living by being filmed while they have sex. The film is then shown on television or sold in video format.”

“Sex?” Loki blinks. It's not his fault he looks sexy while he's doing it, that's just Bruce's perverted mind. “There is a market for such? Amongst whom? Who would rather watch these _porn stars_ have sex, instead of having sex themselves?”

“Some people are alone.” -- As his mouth shapes the words, the thought fills his mind: _I'm not alone. ...Not alone for once in my life._ – “They don't even have friends, much less anyone to have sex with.”

“You mortals make no sense. You have enough and to spare, for all on your pitiful planet...” Cue the standard, generic I'm-Better-Than-You speech. For some reason, it seems like the best way to stop it is to take his face between both hands and kiss those red, red lips of his. Not a long kiss, not a deep kiss, but a definite, real-live _kiss_. It occurs to him while he's doing it, that this is the first time he's kissed anyone since he was dating Betty. ...And then vaguely, he wonders what Tony thinks about it, that he's just given this first kiss to Loki of all people. He pulls back and looks at Tony, and he can't help feeling kind of guilty. 

“You have no idea how fuckin' sexy that was.” For once, the crass comment feels like just the right thing to say. “Loki, you have my undying gratitude.” -- He's leaned back, kind of a pervy-pleased look on his face, as if to say “nope, no disappointment here; I _like_ where this is going.” – “You've gotten my favorite genius housemate to relax and have some fun for a change.”

“Why must you mortals complicate everything so? In Asgard, a kiss is a common form of greeting among shield-brethren...”

Poor Loki: Whenever he doesn't quite get where things are going, he always falls back into that lecturing tone of his. Better take charge and shut him up. This time when he kisses him, Bruce purposely goes deeper. “Do your Asgardian shield-brethren do that with each other?”

Loki doesn't answer right away. Or maybe he does answer, maybe the way he leans back against Tony's chest, and looks at Bruce with the soft curve of a smile, is his answer. “W-what sort of question...” His voice holds pleasure, and just a little hint of confusion. “What sort of challenge?” Slowly, as if it's just occurred to him that he should take offense, he starts to pull away.

Tony pulls him right back, with his left arm around Loki's shoulders. “There's no challenge. That's just Bruce's way of saying he likes you. Know what?” He lowers his voice to a playful whisper. “I don't think it's him, I think it's the Hulk.”

“The Hulk.” Skepticism in those green-green eyes of Loki's. Bruce gets a good look, because they're squashed so close together, Tony pulling Loki close on one side, and him just as close as well, on the other. “You jest.” 

“I always jest.” But there's tenderness, not humor in Tony's voice. “It's what I'm good at. Kiss me, Loki. – Or Bruce? I'm getting tired of watching you two have all the fun here.”

Fun. – Fun? – Cuddly, friendly fun. Since when is smooching it up with a super-hero movie on in the background, and a big box of cake on your lap, fun? ...Since when is it not? ...And why worry about a little thing that, Bruce wonders, when he just narrowly avoided trashing his best friend's home and throwing another friend out the window? “You got it, Tony.” He turns his face upward and lips claim his. Warm lips, lips with just a little bearded scratch to them. Soft, gentle lips, but with a tongue that's ready to come inside and explore, as soon as he opens up to it. ...Which he does. Right away. It's all in good fun, right? 

Tony's right hand is stroking his hair. -- He doesn't know what his left hand is doing, stroking Loki's hair maybe. – It feels good. It feels gentle, and tender, and the kiss goes on and on. Somewhere along the line stuff changes and he's kissing Loki. Then later on it's Tony kissing Loki, – Tony! Loki! – and he can't really watch, because he's got his face buried in Tony's neck. That also feels good.

“Valentine's Day,” Tony mumbles. “My fuckin' favorite holiday of the year.” But it's not the holiday, is it, Bruce thinks. It's being with people you trust. People you're maybe a little bit attracted to. ...Or a lot.

“Your mortal holidays.” Loki's voice doesn't have its usual scoffing tone. He sounds dreamy, and dazed …And pleasured? No, he sounds happy. That's happiness in his voice. This is the first time Bruce has ever heard him sound happy, isn't it? “Dancing on the edge of a volcano.” He leans back against Tony's chest with a sigh, and turns his head so Bruce can kiss him better.


	9. ...And Work in the Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With one more day to go before the weekend, Bruce and the others have to hop right out of bed and get going, no matter what they did together the night before.

Friday morning, Bruce wakes up. His bed feels too-empty. – His room feels too-empty. – Tony's getting to him, that's what it is. He's starting to buy into all his talk about we-should-be-together, we-should-be-a-couple, that's what it is. Should he let himself? Is it safe to do it? Heavy thoughts, for early on a Friday morning. If he'd wanted to go back to sleep, he sure isn't going to be able to do it now that he's got himself thinking them. Bruce looks at the clock: 5:30. Well, that's close to when he was going to get up, anyway.

Steve's already in the kitchen. He shoves Bruce a cup of coffee as he comes in. “You're up early. Thought you'd be with...” His voice trails off as he turns away to the stove. _Thought you'd be in bed with Tony,_ that's what he was going to say, wasn't it? Weird thing is, in the cold light of morning, Bruce is kind of wishing he were in bed with Tony ~~(and Loki)~~. It kind of feels like the right place, cuddly and tender. – And arousing, like when they were on the sofa together last night.

Then Steve turns back, holding a pot in his oven-mitted hands. “Thought you'd be with Tony, in the lab,” he says. --

Oh yeah, that's right, he's dating Mr. Workaholic Tech-Dude. ...Dating? Yeah, they're dating. Tony wins, on that one at least. ...But he'd better keep the suit nearby in case of problems. – 

“Want some oatmeal?” Steve asks him.

“Only you, Steve.” Bruce grabs a bowl from the cupboard. “You do realize you can buy oatmeal in little packets now? All you have to do is add water?”

“Yeah. Crap oatmeal.” Steve ladles him out some of it and puts the pot back on the stove. “Technology doesn't make everything better, you know.”

“Don't let Tony hear you say that.” Bruce adds sugar to his oatmeal. He kind of wishes he could add chocolate as well. – Chocolate? Why would he want to add that ~~when it tastes so much better off Tony's and Loki's mouths~~? – But who adds chocolate to oatmeal?

“Want some toast?” Steve's grabbing the bread out of the fridge when Loki comes in. “Oh, good morning, Loki.”

Loki looks different. He looks... -- Well, he looks like he's been kissed by someone with a beard, which makes sense; Bruce has got some stubble-burns around his mouth this morning too. – ...He looks happy. He's carrying himself differently than he usually does, straighter, and with his head held higher. ...Almost strutting, like he feels more important than he did just yesterday. It's only as he notices how Loki's head seems to about a foot closer to the ceiling than it usually is, that Bruce remembers: That nice little scene they had on the sofa wasn't the only thing that changed for Loki last night, was it?

“Will you pour me some coffee pray, Captain Rogers? And is that porridge? I will have some, if you please.”

Thor's back in Asgard, isn't he? The big friendly blond, who slapped everyone on the back and made them all his friends ~~whether they wanted to be or not~~ is gone. He'll be missed ...but not by Loki, Bruce suspects.

Loki sits down with his breakfast. “Good morrow, Bruce. I trust you slept well?” He pauses, takes a sip of coffee. He seems to be thinking. Then he speaks again: “In my adoptive mother's realm of Vanaheim, intimacy is understood as a gift, to be shared freely by all. It is ...not the same here in Midgard, is it?”

Intimacy! Loki-without-Thor gets right to the point, doesn't he? Behind him, Bruce can almost hear Steve goggling, listening hard to hear every word. Only one way to deal with this question that he can think of: “No Loki.” Bruce uses his scientist-voice. “It is not. Here on ...ah, Midgard, intimacy is something very special, that is shared only when there is a relationship of trust.”

“Then last night means you _trust_ me? You and Tony?” Funny, how sad Loki's voice sounds suddenly. “E'en knowing what I am ...what I have done?”

Last night! He doesn't have to look at Steve to know he's itching to ask the question: What happened _last night_???

_Yeah, Cap. Use that super-soldier brain of yours and figure it out for yourself._

Loki likes things personal, either that or he's just so needy, he can't wait until they're alone to start in talking about this. “We trust you.” Bruce makes his voice warm. “ _I_ trust you. Tony's like one of those people from... – How do you say it? – From Vanaheim. I think he trusts you, but I also don't think he's ever let not trusting someone get in the way of a good time. – Ah, is there a reason we're having this discussion _now_ , right in the middle of the kitchen?”

“If there is a relationship, it can be spoken of, surely.” Loki seems to be studying him, his green eyes not leaving Bruce's brown ones. “If there is not, I would know it, that I should not...” His voice falters.

That he should not what? “Odin raised me as one of his own. I have told you this, have I not?” 

Bruce nods. Yeah, he's told them. It's not exactly clear where he's going with all this.

“I grew up thinking myself Aesir, a member in full standing of the Royal Family. Then when Fa... When _All-Father_ named Thor as his successor... When I saw that he would give the throne to someone who's judgment was so flawed, who's temper so volatile, rather than to consider me...”

...Who showed his own good judgment by trying to destroy an entire realm...

“If I'd known my true parentage, I'd have known not to expect more.” Loki smiles thinly. “For Odin I was never more than a hostage, to be used in negotiation. For Thor... I think I was a pet, to the Thunderer, something that amused him, until I showed I had a mind of my own. -- I want to know: What am I to you ...to Tony?”

“Who's talking about me?” A ping of the elevator and Tony comes in, smelling of cold iron and hot solder. “I'm in the middle of something, so this better not take long. Dummy broke my last coffeepot. I need coffee, stat. – Oh, and breakfast. I need breakfast.” He takes a slice of the toast Steve's just put on Bruce's plate. “You don't mind, do you?”

“Of course not. Sure.” Bruce rolls his eyes, as Tony goes past him to the coffeepot. “Loki was talking about some personal stuff. We should probably talk about it when you're not busy.”

“Loki. Right. Sure.” He looks at him like it's the first time he's noticed he was there. “Hey Reindeer Games, it's your fault I'm working. I had this dream: I was making a mask for the new suit, and I put _horns_ on it. Like on your battle armor, you know? So weird, it woke me up, and I couldn't go back to sleep until I did a prototype of what it would even look like. And I had this idea: If you had your magic again, do you think we could fuse magic into metal the way the Chitauri do?” He sits down with his coffee, and grabs a slice of Loki's toast for a change. “I'm thinking teamwork here.”

“I'm thinking Dr. Doom.” Bruce finishes his oatmeal, before Tony can take that too. “Didn't he do that with his armor?”

“Yeah, that's right. He did. Maybe that's what I was thinking about.” Tony drinks more coffee. “Still a good idea though. We should totally do it when... – Ah Loki, that's right. What were you asking when I came in?”

“I was asking what I am to you? ...To all of you?”

“You're someone who's making the right choices for a change.” Steve sits down with his own breakfast. He looks at Loki, and there's a smile on his face, a tone of approval in his voice.

“Right now, you're the guy that stood by me and Bruce when we needed you last night,” Tony says. “Can we leave it at that for a while? I'm not good with this personal stuff first thing in the morning.”

“I thought we were just ants to you anyway,” says Steve. “Because you're a god, and you're going to live forever, and we're just humans that die in 70 or 80 years. – Most of us, anyway. – Isn't that what you said when you were here before?

Loki licks his lips. He looks down at his plate, then he looks back up again. “Mayhap in this one thing, the Thunderer was correct. Mortals are much more than their puny lifespans would suggest.”

“Yeah we're pretty awesome.” Tony's up again, getting himself some oatmeal. “Hey Cap,” he says, “anyone tell you, you can make oatmeal _without_ a pan these days?” 

Huge sigh from Steve. “Only about a million times. Plus Loki telling me he could conjure it, if it weren't for his damn bracelets. Any of you ever notice, sometimes doing things the easiest way _isn't_ best?” He looks at Loki. “You woke up awfully serious this morning. Is it because of...” A pause. One, two, three... “Because of last night?”

Bruce swallows. Tony practically drops the oatmeal he just served himself. This is Loki's fault. You can't just go shouting all your personal stuff around everyone, and expect them not to get involved.

Steve looks at them. “You guys can put your eyes back in your sockets. I'm not asking for a blow-by-blow description of everything that happened. I'm just talking to Loki. I haven't had a chance to do that much before now.”

“You had a chance.” Loki's green eyes turn cold, as he looks at Steve. “You chose to speak to Thor instead of me.”

Tony leans close to Bruce. “Somebody woke up pretty direct this morning, didn't he?”

Leaning back, ”You weren't here when he asked about last night first thing right after he sat down.”

“Why?”

Bruce shrugs. “He's Loki.”

Tony eats. Steve looks at Loki. “Thor's my friend, I won't deny that. You're...”

Cold voice from Loki, cold and kind of royal-sounding, like a king who's displeased with one of his subjects: “And I am a prisoner, yes. You have behaved as a jailor to me, nothing more.”

It's a weird kind of flip-flop: They all started out to be Loki's jailors, right? The only difference is that Steve knows how to be a jailor, because of the war. All Bruce and Tony have experience being is prisoners. Now apparently Steve's supposed to apologize because he knew how to do the job right?

Bruce interrupts. “Loki, you're not being fair. Thor asked us to guard you...” He looks at his watch. “You know we need to leave soon if we want to be at the hospital at 8:00. Are you sure you want to get into this now?”

“I don't mind,” Steve says. “I can understand why it's important to you, Loki.” He stops. It's like he's thinking of what to say. “Thor's my friend,” he says finally. “Phil Coulson was my friend. Some things are hard to forget…” He looks at Tony and Bruce. “I'm amazed that you...”

That they managed to get past what happened during the invasion... Yeah when he thinks about it, Bruce kind of is too. Maybe it helps to have a dark side of your own, unlike the all-good, all-heroic Captain.

“Yeah well, if you guys are done digging into everyone's souls?” A slurp of coffee cuts off Tony’s sentence. “I've got a prototype mask, with antlers, downstairs that needs finishing.”

A amused smile from Loki. – Funny to see him comfortable enough to jump from the serious to the casual so easily. – “They are called _horns_.”

“Antlers.” Tony gulps the last of his coffee and stands. “And you're my good little Reindeer that gave me the idea. ...And you and Bruce better get your asses out the door, because you have...” – He looks at the clock on the microwave. – “You have about half an hour before Central Bureaucracy is going to come looking for you.”

“We've got plenty of time.” They don't. Maybe if they get there right when a train's coming in. And it's not too crowded. Bruce takes a couple quick bites from his last slice of toast. He pulls his coat out of the closet by the door. “Loki, are you ready? You think you'll need a coat?”

Cool, scornful voice: “Remember my heritage. I will not.” He grabs his coat anyway.

“Don't stay too late.” Incredibly, – Adorably! – Tony's giving him a kiss before he goes back downstairs. “You either, Loki. I want you to model my new antler-helmet when you get home.”

“Just what I need.” Snarky voice from the Frost Giant in the dark coat. “Something to look forward to.”

Bruce shoulders into his coat. “I could use something to look forward to.” 

Right away, he's got everyone's eyes on him(probably they think he's going to Hulk out again if they're not careful). “Oh yeah?” Steve's voice, carefully sympathetic. And Tony's voice, sounding mostly surprised: “Why?”

“Why,” is because today's the day he and Dr. Vang are meeting with Financial. They've put it off as long as they can, but there's no way the clinic can keep going any more, unless it follows hospital rules. Bruce thinks about having to fill out a lot of paperwork before he can even see a patient, maybe not being able to see some of them at all. It's almost enough to make him miss Calcutta, where at least nobody got in your way when you were trying to save lives. He swallows. It's too depressing even to talk about.

“Just a business meeting I don't want to go to.” He keeps his voice light.

“Huh, I know how those are.” Tony snorts, and heads for the elevator.

Yeah. Right. Mr. Owns-His-Own-Company knows how _those_ are, all right. Bruce looks at the other elevator. “You ready, Loki?”

A nod. Then, weirdly, Loki comes over and puts his hand on Bruce's arm. “Angela tells me the insurance paperwork is not as onerous as it appears. And it will not be you who prepares most of it.”

Hmmph. Sympathy from Loki. Now there's something he wasn't expecting. Bruce gives him a smile he doesn't feel. “I'm sure you're right. It'll be fine.” The elevator comes, and they get in. Whatever's coming for them today, it'll be here soon.


	10. Midgardian Bureaucracy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mortals' incompetence is exceeded only by their lack of care for their fellows. It is not for a captured felon however, to redress the harm they cause.

The mortal “hospital” still makes no sense to Loki. With its warren of narrow corridors, its small, cold rooms and sterile facilities, it seems designed, not for healing, so much as for storage. Where on Asgard, the sick and the wounded are cared for in their own homes, by compassionate wielders of healing magic, here, they are isolated, stored in hive-like cubicles, and with more care given to the records of their treatment, than to the treatment itself. 

Indeed, for everything he learns that makes him think better of the mortals here on Midgard, there seem to be several to confirm his initial impression of them as misguided, pathetically unfit to care for their own. Were it not for Bruce and Tony... – And perhaps a little bit, for Steve as well. – Had he not come to care for them, far more than he'd have expected himself ever to care for a mortal being... No matter though, for these are unprofitable musings. They serve only to occupy the higher portion of his mind, while the lower part, and the skill of his hands, is occupied with the seemingly endless task of sorting and organizing files. Mortals are irrational, as well as weak. Someday undoubtedly, their realm will fall to a more powerful being. Is it weakness on his own part, Loki wonders, to hope that their conqueror will recognize the good that is in them and treat them with compassion? 

He has developed a routine for his work here: There is a coffee-merchant who plies his wares along the hallway between Bruce's clinic and the Department of Radiology. Loki visits there first, exchanging some of the floppy paper that serves as money in this realm, for a cup of “latte”. Then follows the filing of whatever new paperwork has accumulated over the course of the previous day. After that, he works with the old files that still remain from when he first arrived here. Their number grows fewer, but still many remain. And his schedule aligns with Bruce's, they will eat the midday meal together. And it does not, Loki eats alone, before purchasing another “latte” and returning to work.

He has come to be known by his fellow workers. The stout older woman, Cindy, is supposed to have what the Midgardians call a “crush” on him. The younger, Blanca, is devoted to the babe she has recently borne, and never sees him but what she must show endless photographs, and recount tales of its maturation. Dr. Vang captures him whene'er he is free. He seems fascinated by the details of healing magic on Asgard. Fortunately, they are not free at the same time very often. The one person Loki has not seen again since he's been here, is Angela. He is pleased. If his instructress has not returned, that means he is doing the job correctly, does it not?

Pure coincidence surely, that when she does return, it is on the same day as the meeting Bruce dreads so? “Wow, I can see the entire back wall!” Her voice echoes in the hallway outside his small filing-room. “Loki, you've made awesome progress!”

That accent of hers is called “Southern”. Loki is not sure why, since from his own research, he knows the southernmost parts of Midgard are ice-covered, and home to no human life. Her voice is loud. _Hearty_ might be a kinder way to phrase it, but he has no desire for kindness right now. He'd been hoping to eavesdrop when Bruce met with “Financial”, and find out what it was about the meeting that troubled him so. Angela comes into the room and hugs him. This is a mode of greeting that indicates familiarity, and more friendship than he would have there be, between himself and this past tutress. 

Nonetheless, the Trickster greets her with a smile. “Angela, well met.” He remembers her devotion to coffee. “Allow me, pray, to purchase a drink for you, from the coffee-merchant?”

A grin: “You haven't changed, Loki.”

There are now seats and to spare, cleared by his work of the past weeks. Angela takes one. She looks around the room again. “I can't get over it. You really have made a difference here.”

She need not be so surprised. The work takes but the meanest of intelligence. Anyone could do it, were they but taught... Fandral, Volstagg, e'en the Thunderer, he of the weak brain and the strong right arm... -- A word from Angela interrupts what had been a pleasant daydream of Thor being put in here, and trying vainly to set the files aright, using Mjolnir. –

“Accounting sent me,” she says. “I told them I'd trained you to do the files the way we want them from the start, so you'd be prepared when the clinic was consolidated, but they wanted me to check.”

_Consolidated_. It is another of those Midgardian words, that treats mortals as objects. This clinic that means so much to Bruce and his compatriots: It should not be “consolidated”.

“Dr. Banner told me the clinic was going to have to abide by the rules of the hospital. He said nothing about it's being 'consolidated'.” 

“It's just a word.” A liar from birth, Loki recognizes the look of dishonesty on Angela's face. “Things are going to keep on going just the way they've always been. Dr. Banner and Dr. Vang are still going to be able to treat everyone who was hurt by the invasion.”

She means they will not. Like most who traffic mostly in honesty, Angela is a poor liar. The truth fair screams from her words and her manner: Mortals are going to be hurt by this “consolidation”. Why he cares, Loki is not sure. Is it because he knows these mortals matter so much to Bruce? Leave aside the matter of why Bruce himself should matter so much... Loki is apparently more like Thor than he'd thought: He can love these mortals, and become bonded to them. At least he has done so with Bruce and Tony. 

“A word...” He looks at Angela, studies her face. She looks away. “How much change will there be?” 

“As little as we can manage.” Angela's voice has changed, the “heartiness” completely gone. She sounds uncomfortable now, a little bit unhappy. “Do you think we want to be known as the hospital that turned away victims of the invasion?”

So people are going to get turned away. Loki does not withdraw his gaze. 

“It's to do with money, is what it is.” Frustration colors Angela's voice. “The hospital can't function at a loss. We can't keep providing service that the insurance companies won't cover. There's only so many costs we can eat, and then it's our bottom line.”

They are “eating” costs? There is a “bottom line” involved somehow? This is a jargon designed to conceal deception, perhaps from Angela herself as well as from her listener.

“New York's lucky Dr. Banner and Dr. Vang were able to keep the clinic going for as long as they did,” Angela says. “They've already helped most of the victims of the invasion. I guess there'll probably be some more: People with chronic conditions, perhaps psychological trauma. I'm sure they'll be able to get their insurance to cover treatment.” She looks down, her face a study of shame and guilt. 

She is sure of no such thing. She is assisting the hospital as it destroys Bruce and his partner's work. Anger floods Loki. He would would take action, destroy all in this hospital who dare stand in the way of the clinic. But he is a mere prisoner here. His magic is sealed, and if he dares lift a finger to cause harm, all that will happen will be for him to be brought back to Asgard and his punishment time served out there. And after all, these are mere mortals that will be harmed. Their lives are short, no doubt they would die soon with our without treatment. 

“I've got you all depressed.” Angela's voice is guilty. “What do you say I buy you lunch to make up for it?”

They lunch together. Loki pays. The news is, after all, no fault of Angela's. She merely relays the messages of her superiors. No point being rude to her. – No point destroying her, e'en had he the power to do it. – They lunch. Bruce and Dr. Vang are still in their meeting with “Financial”; there is no point waiting for them. They are still meeting, with the rest of the clinic staff now, when Loki returns, and he and Angela begin their long afternoon going over the files. Loki does not see Bruce again until the day is over, and then he waits an extra hour, putting away more old files, until Bruce is finally finished.

Returning on the subway train that evening: “What good does it do to worry about it?” They have managed to get a seat together for a change. They can almost hear each other's words, at this close distance. “I told you about when I worked in Calcutta, didn't I?” Bruce says. “Where SHIELD found me, when they wanted my help with the invasion? I remember seeing this guy at a train station once. He was in the final stages of tuberculosis, coughing his guts out into this trash can. Place was crowded as hell, but there was like a five-foot circle of empty space all around him, and people were going on about their business. I avoided him too.” Bruce frowns. “He was dying, Loki. I couldn't have saved him, and if I'd taken him back to the clinic with me, he'd just have infected patients who still had a chance.” He shrugs. “Sometimes you have to be like that, Loki. There's things you can fix in this world, and there's things you can't fix. You'll only go crazy if you let yourself forget which are which.”

Crazy? It sounds like all of Midgard is crazy, to allow such conditions to continue. The mortals here have enough and to spare. Wherefore are some helped, while others are denied? Loki finds himself fingering Odin's bracelets. “And I had my powers intact...”

“I know, I know. You'd fix everyone's problems, wouldn't you?” The train jerks to a halt at their station, and Bruce and Loki exit into the cold air of the February evening. “Don't forget, the whole point of the clinic is to clean up the mess that _you_ made.”

The sidewalks are crowded, but Loki walks in a circle of emptiness, lost in his own thoughts. Things are run badly on Midgard. Once he truly thought to remedy that. He had truly believed that a being of greater power, greater wisdom, could change conditions for the better for these mortals. Instead though, what did he cause but harm and more harm, suffering beyond that which already existed? Is he then, no better – No wiser. – than the mortals he now lives amongst? Is there anyone, in this or another realm, who can bring relief, without causing more damage than they repair?

“I know.” It is only as they enter the Tower that he realizes Bruce has been a silent as he. “Big problems to think about, huh?” A weak laugh. “And at the end of the workday too.” Bruce presses the button for the elevator. Upstairs is light, warmth, a good dinner no doubt, cooked by Rogers, or ordered by Tony, from one of the “take-out” facilities he favors. How, Loki wonders, did he become enmeshed in problems so large, so confusing? Where was the point when his life and that of the Midgardians, became entwined?


	11. The Rudolph Suit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The suit is awesome. It's fuckin' awesome. Just the thing to cheer people up after a rough day at work. ...That and some cuddling on the sofa.

So last night he dreamed about this _suit_ : He's dreamed about the suit before. Some of his best mods came from dreams. First he saw himself able to do something, then he spent a few days in the workroom making it happen. This is the first time he's ever dreamed about a suit for somebody else though, and wouldn't you know it would be Reindeer Games? What could possibly be more insane than making a suit for Psycho-Dude, who likes to throw people through windows and stab them, and unleash alien armies on New York?

...Of course now that he thinks about it, Loki hasn't been doing much of that stuff lately, has he? He can't do the magic stuff with the bracelets on, but he's still got his strength. He hasn't tried to use that against anybody. He hasn't even talked about it. And no more blah-blah-blah about “oh, if I only had my _powers_ back, I'd do this, and this, and this,” like he did when he first got here. Little Reindeer Games is getting quite civilized, the longer he stays in New York. It must be Tony's good influence. But it would still be crazy to make him a suit. No one in their right mind would even consider it, right? Can you imagine how SHIELD would react? And Thor? And Big Daddy What's-His-Butt, back in Asgard? No way, nohow, not even thinking about it. Fortunately, this isn't a real suit though, it's a hypothetical.

But it's a hypothetical that's about halfway built when Bruce and Loki come home at 6:30. Tony doesn't hear the elevator. He doesn't see Steve come into the workroom. One minute he's welding a shoulder-plate onto the new Loki-suit, the next minute, he practically jumps out of his skin, as a big hand comes down on his shoulder.

“Goddammit Steve!” He turns, and it's Captain America's lucky day that his balls _don't_ get melted off, as he barely manages to turn off the welding gun in time.

“Bruce and Loki are home. I thought you'd want to know.” They came home in a pretty bad mood, apparently. Nice to know Tony Stark is now the official Miss Mary Sunshine of Avengers Tower. “I ordered Chinese,” Steve says. “I was out all day, and I didn't have time to cook.”

And Steve Rogers is the official Chef. Tony takes off his mask, his gloves. “You don't have to cook every night, you know.”

“You guys would forget to eat half the time if it weren't for me.”

“We'd survive.” Tony unplugs the welding gun. He powers down his computer and puts the planning table to sleep. “We're not your babies.” He grabs the helmet from the new suit, which is the closest part to being done. Nothing like some new tech to cheer everybody up. He heads for the elevator.

Upstairs, nobody's doing much talking. Loki's got a scowl on his face, and Bruce just looks sort of blank. “Heard you had a crap day?” Tony slings the helmet down on the table, then goes in for a couple quick hugs.

Loki cooperates. – Must be the liar in him, because he doesn't look very huggy. – Bruce pulls away. “Not really.” He's still taking his coat off. He pulls a hanger out of the closet and hangs it up, really finicky and careful, not looking at Tony or the others the whole time. “Nothing I didn't see coming.”

“The hospital is run by unfeeling bureaucrats.” Loki's out of his coat already. He stands there in his white shirt, with that skinny green-and-black tie of his just a little bit loosened. “They care not for the lives of those in their charge, but only for profit.”

“Welcome to the real world.” Bruce grabs Loki's coat and hangs that up too. He's a regular coat-hanging-up machine tonight. Anything to avoid looking at them, right? “Loki's naïve. He thinks magical fairies are going to make life fair here on Earth.” A flick of a look Loki's way. “Or magical Asgardians.” The bell rings and Bruce goes and opens the door. “Food's here. Want me to pay?”

Tony pulls a credit card out of his wallet and gives it to the guy. He's not going to make Bruce pay. Volunteer work at the clinic and a life on the run haven't exactly let him accumulate a whole lot of money. “Imperial Delight. Sweet.” He takes the sack over to the table and unloads it. “Kung Pao Chicken, Broccoli Beef... – Hey Bruce, Steve got you that curry rice you like.” He opens the Kung Pao and chopsticks a bite. “Oh my god, this stuff is good!”

Steve grabs his carton of nice, safe, bland Chow Mein. “You say that every time we get it.”

Tony with his mouth full: “Yeah, that's because every time we get it, I'm starving.”

Loki drifts over (but not Bruce). He grabs the carton of barbecued pork they always get him, because Asgardians don't “do” vegetables. “Midgard deserves to fall. How can any realm survive, when its rulers are so uncaring of their subjects?”

Boot vs. Ants again, eh? Tony chopsticks a peanut. “King Loki.”

Loki turns on him. His green eyes narrow. It's only when they're looking at each other, improbably, over cartons of Chinese food, that Tony realizes how different this really is. Loki hasn't said the first word about taking over here, and – How was it he used to put it? – ...And depriving everyone of their rights, so he could rule them better. He's just mad. Apparently he goes all King Loki when he's mad. Well what would you expect, considering his dad really is a King? 

“Everyplace is unfair sometimes.” Tony makes his words as tactful as possible. “You want to tell me everything's fair on Asgard?”

Quick shake of the head. “Of course not.” Yeah, he knew that answer was coming. They've all heard Loki on the subject of how _unfair_ Big Daddy Odin is, and how he rigs everything so Thor will be the winner.

“Earth's the same way...”

Loki stares. Then his green eyes widen. Then before Tony can finish his thought, he moves close. “You are wealthy, are you not? Very wealthy? You could solve this problem.”

For just a minute, he's seventeen again, and sure that with his brains, and Howard Stark's money, he can make the world a perfect place. Tony feels his stomach twist. “No, Loki.”

He watches the anger die in Loki's green eyes, and sadness replace it. He watches him put the carton of barbecued pork down on the table. “Odin's words... But what is power, if it cannot be used to remake the world aright?”

What is power indeed? You ask the guy with the big shiny suit and the banks full of money: What's he done with everything he had, so far? “Well, it let me help stop an alien invasion.” Tony picks up the carton of pork. “I've got this tower here, where I can put up genius-gods.” He looks at Steve. “And frozen super-heroes ready to clean up half of Manhattan.” It doesn't feel like much to him. What's it going to feel like to Loki? They stand looking at each other for a long moment, and the whole room goes silent.

Then Steve speaks. “The clinic's Bruce's. He's the one losing it. He needs our support right now.”

It's not going to work, Tony thinks. Angry-Loki likes to do stuff, big stuff, not go all touchy-feely. He can kind of identify. But after a pause, Loki nods. 

“It is not my place to demand accounting for the inequities of this realm.” He looks over to where Bruce is sitting on the sofa, no coat, no jacket, but also no friends around him. And no food. And he's got to be hungry after a long day of watching bureaucrats fuck up his pet project. Loki looks at the cartons of food on the table. “Which of these belongs to Bruce?” He opens the lids, inspects a couple. Then he takes the carton of curry rice and goes to the sofa.

Tony follows. When he finds Bruce and Loki sitting a good half the sofa apart, he plops himself down between them. Arms around both their shoulders. “I've dealt with bureaucrats. It sucks, right?”

Incredibly, he feels Bruce relax a little. -- Even after the day he's had. Even after the one's he's probably going to have. -- _Okay Stark, here's your one teeny-tiny success for the day: You've managed to make Bruce Banner trust you._ It actually feels kind of good. And it reminds him of his other success. “Listen, you guys eat, then I want to show you something.”

The tension's seeping out of Loki bit-by-bit too. He's got his carton of pork in his hand again, and he leans into Tony's shoulder. “Something?” He chopsticks some pork and takes a bite.

“Remember me talking about the suit with the antlers?”

“With the _horns_?” Loki says right away.

And at the same time: “You are not seriously making _Loki_ a suit?” 

Curry rice is spill-y stuff. Bruce has a little smudge of it on his lower lip. Any other time, Tony would have kissed it off. Now with things still all stressed and whatnot, he contents himself with thumbing it away gently. “Of course not. Who makes suits for super-villains?”

“Right. That's the mask over there.” Steve points. “It looks exactly like Loki's helmet.”

It doesn't. When would Tony Stark ever be so unoriginal as just to copy somebody else's material? “Maybe there's a slight resemblance.”

Loki's up out of his seat getting it. He picks it up. And of course it falls into two pieces, because Tony hasn't had time to add the catches yet. One part on the back of his head, the part with the antlers on in front. Loki drops back down onto the sofa and hands the mask to Tony. He frowns. “The eye-holes are small to the point of invisibility. How is one to see through them?”

Tony takes the mask. He runs his fingers over the metal, burnished smooth by hours of work, feels the ridges where ...yeah, maybe some green-and-gold detailing is going to go. So? Other people have worn green-and-gold besides Loki. It's... It's inspired by the Green Bay Packers, maybe. “I haven't added the on-board computer. You know JARVIS, Loki?”

“JARVIS...”

“You're making Loki a suit.” Bruce has to dodge, as Loki fits the front part of the mask into place, and suddenly curled horns sprout from his forehead. “After all that happened.”

“I'm making a _Loki-suit_.” It's nice, being able to see the prototype he's just spent the whole day on, being modeled by ...in all honesty, by the guy he designed it for. He doesn't want to take the mask away. But he's got to, right? Who makes Stark Enterprises-calibre weaponry for super-villains? “It's a thought-experiment.” Tony holds out his hand. With a little huff of irritation, Loki hands him back, first one part of the mask, then the other. “Science is all about testing limits, right?”

“Hey, nobody's judging you.” Bruce chopsticks up some more of the rice. He takes the mask from Tony and turns it around in his hands. “What's this thing going to be able to do when it's done?”

Loki curls closer, and leans his head on Tony's shoulder. He's like a cat, like the cuddliest little evil-cat in the world. ...Only not so evil any more, just warm, and cuddly, and _nice_. “My suit, it should have my powers.” Leaning away for a moment, he looks at Tony. “And I describe them to you, can you build them, Tony?”

Tony pulls him in tighter. He pulls Bruce in too. They're like a three-person cuddle sandwich. “I can build anything.”

Bruce snerks. “Build a suit that makes you Hulk out.”

“I could do it.” The words are out of his mouth before it hits him: Did Bruce just make a joke about the Other Guy? The warm feelings and fond feelings that go through him when he realizes, are just as unexpected, but they feel really, really good. Tony pulls his two cuddle-partners close all over again. “Okay, you still pwn me, Bruce.”

Steve has the mask in his hands. He's turning it over, taking in all the awesome detailing Tony's given it. “Not just steel... It's an alloy, right?” He looks at Tony. Then his cheeks start to turn pink. It's because he's sitting so close to the others, Tony realizes. “Whatever happened last night, it really happened, didn't it?” Steve's voice is just this side of awkward-sounding. 

He thinks they fucked. What's weird, is it didn't take fucking. They still have that to look forward to. But yeah, things have changed. He and Bruce and Loki are something together. Something more than friends. “Well we're not fuck-buddies, if that's what you mean,” he says.

Right away, Steve's face turns even redder. “I didn't think...”

_You could join us too. It might be even better with four._ Tony wants to say it. He wants to say it so bad! But he's already fucked with poor Steve's mind enough for the night. It's not his fault that he grew up in the Dark Ages.

“I knew you were going out with Bruce last night. I just didn't know...” Steve looks at Loki.

“Loki helped us.” Bruce leans across Tony to look at him, then he looks at Steve. “What the others don't want to tell you, is there was some trouble last night. The Other Guy, he ...Ah, he got a little nervous. Loki stayed and helped me through it. He stayed, even knowing...”

_...Even knowing that he could be killed._ The unspoken words hang there for a moment.

“My strength is intact, despite Odin's bracelets,” Loki huffs. “An attack would have been as nothing.” Tony looks at him. Then he looks again. Loki's cheeks are pink. He's blushing, isn't he?

He's blushing, and he smiles just a little bit. And he cuddles close. -- Whatever he does to make his hair lie flat like that, it's still silky and sweet-smelling against Tony's cheek. Unthinking, Tony runs his hands through that dark hair. It's soft, soft as a baby's hair. – “I'll be honest, I was scared,” he says. “And I didn't want to have to fix a Loki-sized hole in this living room floor too. But you know? I think Bruce's Other Guy liked him.”

Bruce laughs a short laugh. “No he didn't. He didn't like either of you.” He's cuddled up close against Tony's other side. His hair's a little spikier than Loki's, and tickly, against Tony's other cheek. “I think he'll get used to you though.” He means, _I think I'll get used to you._

Steve's still looking at them, his face confused. “So you're ...friends?” He wants to ask more. This is probably not how friends treated each other, in the 1940's. His eyes are glued to the three of them, cuddling together. _Well you have to understand that I'm a man-ho, first of all, Cap..._

“It doesn't make any sense, you're right,” Bruce says. “It just sort of happened.” He smiles. “But I like it. How about you, Tony? Loki?”

He likes it, oh yeah, he likes it. And Loki? What thinks Earth's grumpiest demigod?

“If I must be with mortals at all,” he grumps his grudging agreement, “I had rather it be Bruce and Tony.”

Tony fluffs that soft hair of his. “Could he say better? I mean, could he?”

Steve's blue eyes are still just as wide, and his face is still just as confused. “So I should make plans to move out? Two's company, right? Or ...ah, _three_?”

Yeah, there's that, isn't there? Guilt floods: Tony's seen the crap little hole-in-the-wall place SHIELD put Steve up in, before he came to live in the Tower. “This is just temporary. You know, until the repairs are finished. I've got a whole floor planned for you. Red-white-and-blue wallpaper, and a full gym and all that shit.”

“We're not trying to push you out.” Bruce is feeling guilty too, isn't he? “We can go to the other room, if you'd like.”

_Tony's_ other room. The one with the big bed, and the collection of porn he found in the Creative Director's cabinet. ...Oh, and the _Jacuzzi_...

“That's all right.” Steve swallows. He looks away. It looks like it takes effort. Then he picks up the remote control, and a minute later the room's full of explosion-sounds, and there's black-and-white soldiers all over the screen. “John Wayne marathon on TCM tonight.” Steve grins. “If you can make me uncomfortable, I can make you uncomfortable, right?”

Sure, yeah, no problem. Watch the dinosaur-movies with Cap, in return for being able to do a little snogging? That seems fair. Tony grabs his Kung Pao off the coffee table. It's cold, but he still eats a couple more bites.

After a while: “Are you mortals are always fighting,” Loki grumbles. “Even in your entertainment?”

“Not really.” Steve laughs. “We can watch the Astaire and Rogers marathon tomorrow night too, if you want.”

“And I get to make out with Bruce and Loki on the sofa while we're watching?”

Tony hears something like a choking sound, coming from Steve, but to his credit, the Cap manages an answer: “As long as the lights are _real_ low.”


	12. The Other Guy Gives his Blessing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce is a little worried about what's going to happen when he and Tony and Loki ... _you know_. But it turns out the Other Guy's okay with it.

So after the last time, Bruce knows that if he's going to ...If he and Tony are going to... Okay, if he and Tony _and Loki_ are going to ...do what was supposed to happen on Valentine's Day, if the Other Guy hadn't gotten in the way, it's going to take planning. It's going to take his planning. Not that Tony can't make plans or anything, – Although he does sort of have this idea that everything should go his way, and all problems should vanish, just because he's Tony fuckin' Stark. – but Hulk's Bruce's problem. He's the one who's been living with him all these years. He's the one who knows him, who understands him you might say, as far as anyone can understand someone who's not really a person at all, but just your anger impulses, inside a giant, indestructible green skin. It's going to take Bruce thinking about this, is the point. He's the one who's going to have to work out a way to make this happen if he wants it to happen at all.

The funny thing is, he does want it to happen. At first, he didn't think he did. He sort of thought it was Tony's thing. He'd go along with it, yeah, because he likes having Tony in his life; if fucking together is what it takes to keep him, well okay then, they'll fuck. Somewhere around the end of last week, when they started spending every night cuddled together on the sofa (and with Loki in the middle, cuddling with them both), he started seeing Tony's point. It feels really good being close to someone you care about... No, it feels really good _and sexy_ being with someone you care about... Jesus, it sounds like he's about twelve when he even tries to talk about it. It's not like this is new to him. He was with Betty. But he never had to talk about it with Betty. It just happened, and it was good. And then the Other Guy came along and ruined it.

The point is, Bruce wants this to happen. He knows Tony and Loki want it too. And he's going to make it happen. He's going to put everything in place so the Other Guy won't get stressed. There's going to be privacy. It'll be just him, Tony, and Loki. They'll be together on the sofa like they always are, no stress, no challenge, no sudden changes. Then if – When. – they're ready to do something else... Well then they'll do it. It'll be good. It'll work. And after the first time, it'll probably be really easy, because then the Other Guy will be used to it.

So he talked to Steve about it. Steve's really cool. He's been totally edged out here the past week or so. He's got to be feeling like the third wheel, with the other three of them practically fucking all over the couch right in front of him every night, but he's been really nice about it. He understands it's only until the repairs are done on the Tower. Then he's going to have a whole floor to himself and lots of privacy (and Tony, Loki and Bruce are probably going to share one floor ...with maybe a separate, reinforced place for the Hulk), but for now, he's making an effort to help this to work. 

So then Steve talked to Reed Richards. Turns out Ben Grimm's got a cousin named Andrea. She's a little older than Steve... Okay, no she's not. She's ...a little older than you might expect, let's put it that way. But she's from Brooklyn. She grew up on the same street Steve did, actually, and she's old enough that she and Steve can share a few “good old days” stories maybe. ...Only hers are from like 40 years later than his. The point is though, Steve's going out with her. He's going to be out all Wednesday evening, and it will be just Bruce, Tony and Loki. Bruce already told Dr. Vang: He's going to be out that afternoon. Just for once, whatever shit the hospital decides to pull on their poor little clinic, it's not going to be him that's dealing with it. He's got Loki off the hook for the afternoon too. They'll do something nice together, go to the library maybe. They'll pick up something good for dinner on the way home. Some more stuff from Imperial Delight maybe. Or a pizza. Loki really likes pizza. They'll go home and drag Tony away from the Loki-suit that he's still in the middle of working on (and there's a brain-hurting concept if you want one), and after that it'll be their time together.

Then when Wednesday comes, he's half afraid something is going to happen. If there's going to be a day for someone to have a crisis... If the bureaucrats in Financial are going to choose a day to dump more crap in his lap, or one of the doctors is going to get sick or something, this is going to be the day, right? It's not until he and Loki are on their way out the door at lunchtime, and he hears Blanca telling them to have fun, that Bruce really breathes easy. 

He grins at Loki. “We did it.” 

“Of course.” A roll of green eyes. This is Loki the way he never lets himself be seen at the clinic, still a little arrogant, and liable to get all King-of-Asgard on your ass if you're not careful. “You are the ruler of the clinic, with Dr. Vang. It is your prerogative to leave when you choose.”

Yeah, that's not the way it works in medicine. 

“I am honored you chose to include me in this, your free afternoon.” Loki speaks with more tact. “What plans have you, pray?”

His plans... _Oh Loki, when you see what I've found!_

The trip's a little far out into the suburbs, but Bruce knows it's worth it when he sees Loki's face. “A library, _with_ a coffee merchant inside?” Amusement sparkles in his green eyes. “E'en Tony would enjoy this one, would he not?”

“He might.” -- Coffee _and_ sandwiches, and some nice tables in the courtyard where they can eat, before they go inside and look at books. They take their order to a table in the sun, where it's almost-warm enough. -- “There's still books here. I think he's allergic.”

“You mortals can...”

“It's a joke.” Bruce unwraps his turkey on whole wheat. He watches as Loki takes a sip of a coffee with so many shots of espresso in it that he might as well be Tony. “You've really gone native, haven't you?”

“Native?” Loki's answered before Bruce realizes what he said. It's a little personal. If Loki decides to take it wrong... This is why he should leave saying the personal stuff for Tony. But Loki just looks confused. “Midgardian vernacular...”

“I meant anyone would take you for a real human.” Bruce crams a bite of sandwich. “It's supposed to be a compliment.”

Loki unwraps his roast pork sandwich with grilled vegetables. He doesn't answer for a long moment. When he does, his face is soft; his green eyes look a little sad. “After I learned of my true parentage, I thought I would ne'er find a place where I would feel at home. I am not of the Aesir, but I was raised by them, so I am not truly of the Jotnar either. You and Tony...” He looks up and his eyes and Bruce's meet. “You have made me feel that I am one of you, that I...” He breaks off, then takes a large, almost savage bite of his sandwich. “You are mortals. I will never be one of you. But the pretense is ...pleasant, for a time.”

It's more than a pretense ...maybe. Bruce isn't exactly sure if he is mortal any more. The Gamma Rays fucked up his DNA pretty good. He knows the Other Guy can't die, because of the time with the gun. He's just not sure if that means both of them or not. And then there's Steve and the serum. Normal people don't survive being frozen. Not humans, or “mortals” if you want to put it in Loki's terms.

“You're one of us,” he says. “If it doesn't last forever, well maybe it wouldn't have lasted forever no matter what. Eventually, your dad will forgive you and you'll go home. Or maybe you'll fall in love with someone else.”

Love. He said it, didn't he? Bruce sees the reaction go across Loki's face. First his eyes go dark as he thinks about it. Then they lighten and warm again. Then all of a sudden his hand's on top of Bruce's. Those fingers of his with the bitten black nails, that are always a little cold (because of him being a Frost Giant probably), are tight on top of his own. “I will _not_ 'fall in love' with someone else.”

It's a declaration, isn't it? But Loki's still talking. “Our bond, will endure, Bruce. Your place in my heart will remain, yours and Tony's. And one day, so soon as the Aesir measure time, I will lose both of you...” 

Yeah, there he is, the dark, depressing Loki they all know and love. Bruce covers his hand with his own and squeezes. “You won't 'lose' us.” Well he might lose Tony. “Didn't I ever tell you? The Other Guy can't be killed. You're going to be stuck with him, and me ...and Steve... forever. If you want us.”

“ _If_ I want you.” 

“Yeah, that's something I learned from Tony,” Bruce says. “You wouldn't think you could learn about love from him, would you? But since we've been together I figured it out: What we have together is good. Even if it doesn't last, it's good, and I'm going to look back and feel good when I remember it.”

Bruce watches Loki's face. His eyes warm, and a smile looks like it's going to start. Then he snorts, and his eyebrows go up, and he's Snooty-Loki again. “Sentimentality. You mortals are good at it. He doesn't take his hand away though. He sits there in the middle of the courtyard with his hand in Bruce's and he looks at him, and after a while the smile is there. 

“There is a genre called 'Fantasy'. The librarian showed me the section at the other library. Has this library a 'Fantasy' section, do you think?”

“Probably.” Their hands are still locked together, his rough, tan hand, with Loki's paler one on top, and then his other hand on top of that. Plus he can't seem to stop looking at Loki. But Bruce tries to pull his mind toward what Loki's talking about. He shrugs. “I don't know. I'm more a hard Science Fiction kind of guy.”

Loki nods (and still doesn't take back his hand). “I will ask the librarian. And this 'hard Science Fiction', Bruce: I will read some of that as well.”

It's one of those days when everything goes well. Really really, weirdly well. You couldn't pay for a day like this if... Well, all Tony's money couldn't make it better, and it's just all luck, not a lot of spending or elaborate stuff. The sun's out while they're eating their lunch, and then it's just starting to go down when they finish up at the library, and the lights of the city are starting to come on. They're way out in the suburbs, but they get a taxi right away, and the guy's cool about stopping on the way home so they can pick up some dinner. He's cool about helping them carry their stuff upstairs when they get there, too. Loki plus Fantasy, plus Science Fiction, plus dinner for three and all Bruce's books as well, equals more stuff than the two of them can carry, and the cabbie just automatically parks the car and grabs a stack of books and joins them. “It's Avengers Tower,” he says. “I always wanted to see this place.”

But then he's not creepy and stalkerish about it. They get upstairs and he just puts the books down on the receptionist's counter. “You two live here?”

“And Tony Stark.” It's the least he can do to give him a few details, considering he's being so helpful. “And Captain America. And maybe some more people when the repairs are done.”

The guy takes another look around. He doesn't complain that none of the really big-name superheroes are here, just some guy whose “suit” is a big, green monster. And Loki, who is technically, a super-villain. “Cool,” he says. Then he takes the fat tip Bruce gives him and goes, and the Tower is quiet, and filled with the good smell of the pizzas Bruce and Loki brought home. And anticipation...

“I guess Steve's already gone.” Bruce takes the pizzas on into the living room. He puts them on the coffee table, then goes to the kitchen for some tea.

“I could check his room.” Loki takes a beer out of the fridge. It's not like him to offer to be helpful like this; maybe all this anticipation is making him uncomfortable too.

“No. No, that's okay.” They need Tony, Bruce thinks. If he were up here, he wouldn't be making a lot of stupid small talk about “where's Steve this,” and “look how quiet it is,” and all that. He'd be right in the middle of them both. They'd be on the sofa already kissing, with one of Steve's old movies playing for background noise. He should get him now. He's just in his lab downstairs, probably. One call on the Stark-phone, and he'll be up here and they can get this party started.

Then it occurs to him that he can get the party started himself. It's like his brain short-circuits. One minute he's standing by the microwave with a Tazo teabag in his hand, the next minute he's got his hands on Loki's hips and he's looking into his eyes. “I need two things for tonight, Loki. I need you, and I need Tony.” Who the hell is he channeling? He never talked to Betty like this. “We'll get Tony in a minute,” says this new, aggressive Bruce, who seems to have come out of nowhere, “but first I need this.” And then his mouth comes down on top of Loki's, and Loki is opening his mouth to him, and he tastes a little bit of the beer he'd barely had a chance to get a drink of, and a lot of dark, magical demigod.

After that, they're on the sofa before Bruce can really think about it. He feels Loki's hand, tugging at his shirt collar, then he feels his cold fingers against his own skin. It tickles a little at first, then somehow enough buttons get undone that Loki's got both hands against his bare back.

“Tony...” It's like trying to call reality back. His mind is flooding with pictures of Loki naked: What does he look like naked? ...Of Loki in _his_ bed with _him_ : One of them has to be on top. Which one? What will they do? But there are three of them, aren't there? And one of them isn't here yet.

“I am Loki,” Loki barely takes time away from kissing to answer. As if anyone could mistake those lips of his, that are a little bit cold, and so easily bruised, a vulnerability strange for a demigod. 

“No, Tony's not here yet. We have to...” – One more kiss, then one more again. – “He's in his workroom, probably.”

He hears Loki mutter something about _Tony can get eaten by a bilgesnape,_ but the Stark-phone comes out of his pocket. Somehow he dials, with still one hand down the back of Bruce's shirt. “Tony, are you here? Do you plan to come upstairs sometime in the next millennium?” 

Bruce grabs for the phone, but Loki holds it at arm's length. He hears little snatches of voice: “crackle-crackle pizza...” And then, “crackle-crackle naked ...Hot Bruce-on-Loki action...” Then there's a distant “ping” as the elevator arrives, and he starts hearing footsteps coming closer.

“Fucking first, then pizza, right?” The scorch-holes on his shirt and the grease-stains on his hands, say Tony's been working. That Loki-suit of his that he's been bragging about. He says he wants it for the Stark Expo in April. Loki's going to take a couple days off work to model. If they can get SHIELD clearance.

Bruce hears footsteps. He doesn't actually look up from kissing Loki to see where Tony is. When he feels him plop down on the sofa on the other side of him, it's sort of a surprise. Then there are more hands undoing the buttons of his shirt. Cold hands. Tony must have gotten a beer out of the fridge before he sat down. “Naked Bruce first? I can live with that.”

Warm lips touch the back of his neck, then slowly trace a path around to his throat. “Your ...uh, Other Guy okay with this, Bruce?”

“He'd better be.” He is, actually. Looking inside, all Bruce can feel is contentment. There is ...maybe a little curiosity about the pizza. “He might want a slice of pizza.”

“Right away?” Somehow Tony's lips are against his mouth now, and Loki's are against his throat. His shirt's all the way open, and Loki's mouth just keeps going down, down, down.

Bruce looks inside, but he still just feels contentment. Apparently the Other Guy is okay if his pizza is cold. “No hurry.”

“Good.” Tony leans back for a minute and looks at him. “You're already halfway naked, Bruce. Why don't you finish the job.” He looks at Loki. “Then I want to see that hot, Norse body of yours. – Uh, Jotun, or whatever... – I want to see you naked; from the way you fill a shirt and tie out, there's got to be something pretty special going on under there.”

“Finish the job...” Bruce looks inside: No stress, no strain. It occurs to him to be kind of impressed with how much the Other Guy's managed to trust Tony and Loki. Of all people for him to trust! “As in I get naked.” His hands go to his belt. Why the hell not? Nothing wrong with getting naked right here, for Tony and Loki. “Me and Loki. What about you, Tony? You're just going to sit there with your clothes on and look at us?” 

“Well I wasn't just going to look.” Tony's arms go up and a char-spotted t-shirt lands in Bruce's lap. Right on top of where he'd just undone his pants. It sort of ...covers things. Mostly his undershorts, but also the arousal they're covering. “There was going to be touching involved.” Tony's up off the couch and Bruce hears a zip. He looks, and there's Tony's bare ass, looking toned enough to remind him that billionaire playboy-industrialists can also afford personal trainers. It's ...a little bit daunting. Then Tony's on the sofa again and his mouth's against Bruce's throat. “I'm waiting. I believe naked-Bruce and Loki was promised.” 

“I do not remember making any promises.” On the other side of him, Bruce feels a bounce-bounce of the sofa. He looks over to see Loki unbuttoning his shirt, very _very_ slowly and carefully. It comes open. Pale skin like ivory is visible, a throat with a rapid pulse. The cuffs still aren't even unbuttoned though, and it occurs to Bruce, Loki might be embarrassed about those bracelets he wears.

Embarrassed. That dignity of his, that means so much to him. “The bracelets aren't you, Loki.”

Green-eyed scorn sweeps him. “Like all mortals, you make no sense.”

“I think they're hot. Like bondage-gear or something.” Tony reaches across, bare arms brushing Bruce's bare stomach. It's kind of tempting to grab him while he's leaned like that, and explore a little of that naked Stark-flesh. “Come on, Loki.” He grabs a wrist, unbuttons the cuff. Loki lets him, so it must be okay. “I stripped for you, didn't I?”

Bruce feels Loki relax. His arms brush him, as the shirt comes off. Then Loki stands, and the pants disappear in one quick movement. He's long and pale and thin all over, but with muscles under the skin that remind you he was a warrior back on Asgard. It's like Thor (who's never shy about showing anyone his nakedness), only drawn more elegantly, like a younger Thor, or Thor-if-he-was-an-artist.

“You guys are making me jealous.” He looks down at his own trousers, which are still right where they used to be, and he thinks about the clumsy nerd-body underneath. “I'm going to have to let the Other Guy out just because his body is better than mine.”

He thinks... Does the Other Guy want out? Actually, he is picking up something. Not anger, but a little bit of ...jealousy. Like the Hulk wants some action too. He'll get pizza and like it, Bruce thinks. The hot demigod-on-industrialist-on-clumsy-scientist-nerd action is reserved for himself. No anger comes when he thinks it, so apparently that's okay. 

Bruce stands. “They're coming off. And nobody says one word about my ass, you understand?”

He is no sooner out of the way than Tony and Loki are wedged up against each other snuggling. Tony looks up at him. He traces one hand down Bruce's back and smiles. “Of course not, far be it from me,” he says. “Can I say something about the Captain America undershorts?”

“Think Geek final clearance.” Bruce slides them off and drops them on the floor. “A man's got to cover his butt some way, doesn't he?”

“I dunno.” Tony's hands are on him, and Bruce finds himself tumbling onto the sofa with him and Loki. “What do you think, Loki? Does our friend here need to 'cover his butt'?”

Loki's hands are on his shoulders, and his lips are against Bruce's chest. “I see no reason for it, Tony.”

“No, wait, I've got it: We'll cover it like this.” Bruce doesn't have time to think about it before he's got a slippery, greedy Tony right on top of him, nibbling at some places, and grabbing others... 

“If anything's going to bring the Other Guy out,” he just manages to get out in between the Tony-kisses and the Loki-kisses.

“Yeah, I know.” Tony sounds very pleased with himself. “I figure if he's going to come out, he'd better do it now.” Suddenly serious, “does he want to come out?”

Bruce looks: There's nothing but calm inside, calm, and a greediness that's growing rapidly. He can't tell whose greediness it is, but it doesn't feel like it matters. “I get you first.” He wraps his arms around Tony's neck, his legs around his hips. “Hulk can have sloppy seconds.”

There's some rolling after that, and some kissing. Maybe there's some nibbling as well, Bruce sort of loses track. The next thing he really notices, is Tony stopping, looking past his shoulder. He wrenches his head around and looks too, and there's Loki sitting there at the end of the sofa with his arms folded.

“You two make quite a show.” He sounds... – What does he sound? _Miffed_ , maybe? Is that a word? – He doesn't sound happy. “If one enjoys watching such, which I do not. Perhaps I shall go to my room.”

Sulky!Loki is a little bit aggravating. Maybe there are logistics to managing a threesome on a sofa, but it's not like Bruce has ever had the chance to learn them. Him? He's still just making sure his Other Self doesn't come out and destroy anything.

Fortunately there's Tony, who's had all the experience in the world. “No, my room, Reindeer Games.” Somehow he manages to throw an arm around Loki's neck, and still hold onto Bruce just fine. “We need a bed, and mine is the biggest.”

“ _Your_ room?” The sulkiness starts to leave, not as fast as Bruce would like. “And if I say no?” Oh well, he's been watching Tony long enough to know how to chase it away faster by now, hasn't he?

“Then we'll do this.” Somehow he wrenches himself around so he's on his belly, and he gloms onto Loki around the waist. His face is places he never thought about putting his face, but it's okay. Then when he starts hearing pleased sounds coming out of Loki, it's really okay.

“And some of this.” Bruce isn't even sure where Tony is. Is that his foot in the middle of his back? His ass on top of his own head? His voice is coming from up around Loki's head, and it's this sexy whisper, that sends chills through him even with the foot in his back. 

“Well, since you force me,” Loki purrs. “I suppose I shall come quietly.”

There's some kind of comment from Tony about, _it doesn't have to be quietly._ Then there's a shock of cold air as their sweaty, slippery bodies come apart just long enough to get down the hall to Tony's bedroom. Then there's the bounce, of them all falling onto the super-expensive mattress, and the whisper-whisper of super-expensive sheets against their naked bodies.

The temperature goes up fast once they’re sprawled on the bed, legs tangled with legs, arms wrapped around bare chests. Outside the smoked-glass office-building windows, the sun's almost down, just a little bit of light coming in, catching sparks of light off tumbled hair and making silhouettes out of their tangled bodies. Bruce loses track of who's where, who's doing what to whom. – And the Other Guy? He's just a faint presence, just sort of chilling and watching what's going on. – All there is, is the feel of it, the sounds, the smells, the sensation. Loki's a little cold against his skin, Tony's a little hot. Oh, and that jacuzzi in Tony's bathroom gets the workout of its life, a little while later on in the evening.

Also the pizza gets cold. It still tastes just fine, though, when Tony brings it into the bedroom somewhere around midnight and passes out slices. “Lucky me,” he says. “Pizza, and an all-you-can-eat buffet of men, right here at my fingertips.” Speaking of fingertips, he's got pizza sauce on them, and then on his hair, when he leans back and puts his hands behind his head.

Bruce snickers. “You're the pizza-flavored entree.” He looks at Loki. “Shall we put him in the jacuzzi, or can we take care of this on our own?”

Loki, who's carefully picking all the anchovies off his slice of pizza, looks up. 

“You’re getting yourself all pizza-flavored too,” Bruce says. “I guess that means it's up to me.” Tossing his crust in the direction of the pizza box, he wades in. At the very back of his mind there's the thought” _Pizza and action; I wonder if the Other Guy's enjoying this._ Then there's no thought any more, just pizza-flavored kisses, and the taste of the anchovies from Loki's fingers, which sort of ends up going everywhere.


	13. Dinner at Buona Tavola

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Attempting to fit in, in a Midgardian household, means learning to appreciate pasta, as well as to listen to the emotional concerns of one's roommates. It also sometimes means dressing in weaponized armor for the appreciation of mortals, but Loki finds himself willing.

After their first night together, it becomes normal for Loki, Bruce, and Tony to sleep in the same bed. Loki and Bruce move their clothing into Tony's room, their small stock of garments taking up a tiny space, next to the enormous collection of suits (which he never seems actually to wear). Their articles of grooming find their way into his bathroom, and their books, newspapers, and electric Stark-readers are piled on top of his bedside tables. It is the first time Loki has lived so close to another person since he was very young, and used to share a room with Thor. At the time, he found another's presence oppressive and demanded his own room, but now he is quite comfortable living with two others. Interesting, how life can change so, and one can grow to welcome what was once frustrating intrusion. 

Once the weather has begun to grow warm, in this corner of Midgard known as New York, it continues to warm apace. The month called February ends, the one called March comes after, and by the middle of that one, warm days have become quite normal, and Bruce and Loki need no longer wear coats when they go to work in the morning. It feels a small, daily luxury, to walk to the subway entrance every day, with but the lightest of jackets over their shirtsleeves. Interesting again: In Asgard, where the weather was ne'er anything but perfect, one grew not to notice if after a while, but here, where it varies so, warm days bring with them a perceptible lightening of the mood. 

Tony, for his part, continues work on what he calls the “Loki-suit”. This is a suit of armor, rather like the one he wears himself, infused with “tech”, that allows the wearer to do many things of which mortals are normally incapable. These skills are patterned upon the ones Loki commands... _Commanded_ , rather. ...Upon the skills Odin sealed, when he forced Laufeyson to wear the bracelets of silver. The suit Tony crafts would bring slight redress at least, and it belonged to him. It is but a demonstration however, a creation designed to show Tony's prowess with his beloved “tech” before an admiring audience. 

“Loki, hurry up!” The shout down the hall summons him to the kitchen. Loki, who had been combing his hair, attempting yet again by mere mortal means, to make it look as he used to _will_ it to look when he had his powers intact, grabs his suit jacket and hurries out to find Bruce waiting for him, with a sealed Midgardian “travel cup” in one hand, a slice of toast in the other. “We've just got time if you want to make yourself something before we leave.” 

Steve, who normally prepares breakfast for all, is not here this morning. He has been summoned by Director Fury. Apparently SHIELD has work they would have him do.

“There is no need,” Loki tells Bruce. “Satisfactory breakfast can be purchased from the coffee merchant at the hospital.”

“When you buy your coffee like always, you mean?” Bruce gives a soft laugh. “You really are getting more and more like Tony every day, Loki. I'm going to wake up one morning and if my eyes are closed I won't be able to tell which of you is which.”

Mortal humor. It is sometimes difficult to understand what they find amusing about it. “You will be able to tell,” Loki says, “for I sleep in the middle of the bed, and Tony on the righthand side.” He grabs the toast from Bruce's hand and takes a bite, ignoring Bruce's repetition that he is _just like Tony_. “Your toast-making prowess is sadly lacking, Bruce. Pray join me at the coffee merchant's stall, and I shall purchase breakfast for you there as well.”

“I wish.” His friend's face darkens. “I've got to go talk to Financial as soon as we get there.”

“The man you spoke about?” There is a man who has come several times to the clinic thus far. He was injured but minorly in the crash of one of the Chitauri's ships, during the invasion. Bruce and his compatriot Dr. Vang have healed these injuries but, in doing, they have also found evidence of a “cancer”, a mortal ailment which can cause death if left untreated. Bruce believes, based upon experimentation he has done, that the cancer is caused by toxic chemicals that were dispersed when the Chitauri ship exploded. He has reason, certainly he knows the subject better than most, having been among the few to do experimentation upon the remains of such ships that were left behind when Tony closed the portal. The hospital however, disputes it. They would pay only for treatment of the man's initial fracture, but insist he must find means to pay for the cancer treatment himself. Bruce still hopes that they can be brought to see reason and change their decision, but Loki doubts this is possible. The hospital authorities thus far, have not proven to be merciful, and he doubts that one man's harm will make them so.

Bruce nods. “I brought in all my data when I met with them last week. They said they'd have a decision for me by this morning. I need to get it right away, Mr. Villa's appointment is at 9:00, and I have to know whether we can go forward with the treatment.” He grins, a rather doubtful grin. “I'm optimistic.”

He isn't. It is easier for him to control the Other Presence inside him when he tells himself that he is though, Loki thinks. “And you should be so, Bruce.” He grabs Bruce's travel cup as they enter the elevator and takes a drink. It is the spiced tea he favors, which always makes Loki think of the mulled wine Frigga used to prepare back in Asgard. At once, he gives it back, and makes a wry face.

“Yeah, Tony doesn't like it either.” Bruce sips from the cup as the elevator takes them to ground level. He smiles, a little bleakly. “Some tastes remind you of things, you know?” The elevator pings and they go out, then exit the building into the pale, Midgardian spring sunshine. “I used to see a lot of pain and suffering when I was in India, but at least the people who said they were on my side really were. None of them ever turned around and sabotaged...” His voice breaks off, and he is silent almost to the subway station. “Dr. Vang says he can probably get Federal disaster relief to cover Mr. Villa's treatment if the hospital won't allow it, but I don't know. It seems like a stretch to me. That's usually for covering property damage, not healthcare.”

Property damage, healthcare... It is all jargon to Loki, words the mortals here use to cover up when they are behaving unjustly. He was punished for behaving with no more unjustness. Because he was from another realm, wasn't it? Had he been born a ruler here, he could have gotten away with far worse acts. “I am sure it will work out,” he says, his words no more insincere than Bruce's.

“No you're not.” The train arrives and Bruce takes his hand, pulling him on board. He turns a smile Loki's way. “Look at me, I must be smart. I can figure out the God of Lies.”

The touch of their hands together feels good. Loki savors it for a moment, e'en knowing that without a place to sit in the crowded car, Bruce will need both hands free, the one for his travel cup, and the other for balance. “You are smart _and_ compassionate.” His voice is warm and, this time, his words are sincere. He gives his friend's hand a parting squeeze, then lets go to seize a pole himself, as the train picks up speed.

They reach their destination quickly enough. The sun is pleasant, as they leave the subway, but so warm that Loki has removed his jacket by the time they reach the hospital. Bruce looks at him. “Frost Giant.”

Loki nods. “Indeed.” The thought is less unpleasant than he would have expected. “Finally I understand why the Thunderer felt need of heavier garments than I, when we ventured into Jotunheimr.”

“Tony said he wanted to get you a summer-weight suit.”

The trees around the hospital are beginning to bloom. Bruce and Loki tread upon petals as they walk to the entrance.

“He will not do so.” Loki opens the door for Bruce. “After Odin has declared end to my punishment here, I shall procure suitable garments myself.”

“Then you're definitely staying?” Bruce looks pleased.

The hallways are labyrinthine but by now Loki negotiates them effortlessly. Then follows the elevator that will take them to their floor.

“Of course.” It is as though saying it brings full reality to the prospect: He will _stay_ , here on Midgard, where those around him are mortals and he will ne'er have the power and authority he was born for. Is it what he wants? He looks at Bruce and there is no doubt in his mind, but rather shame, at the thought that he once tried to destroy him. Ask rather, will the Midgardians have him here? ...Will Bruce and Tony? “If you will have me, my friend.” His voice is soft.

Bruce smiles, but it is an uneven smile. “You sure you want to live around mortals the rest of your life?” 

He is sure, Loki thinks. Surprisingly, he is sure. “You are not a mortal,” he says, “and Steve is not a mortal. And Tony...” He will not think about Tony, not yet. “I would not leave you and Steve alone, with no companion but yourselves.” He would not leave _Bruce_ alone. The Captain is not sufficient companion for him.

Bruce's smile stays. He blinks, opens his mouth once, then twice, but says nothing. Loki leans close and brushes a quick kiss across his mouth while the elevator is moving. The pinging of bells announces their arrival; the door opens, to find him still with his hands on Bruce's shoulders. Bruce pulls away.

He gives a nervous laugh. “What if someone had seen you?”

“I care not.” Loki looks both ways down the empty hallway. Far-distant, people are coming. He leans toward Bruce again. “Shall I do it again?”

Bruce pulls back. “I’m late for my meeting already, and I still have to get the notes from my office.” His eyes are bright, as he looks at Loki and, staring into them, Loki feels his heart twist in a way that is new to him. This is _his_ mortal, his immortal, green-monster-side mortal, to keep and to cherish. Bruce's hand touches his, “I uh, I don't think I can manage lunch with you today. My schedule's pretty packed.”

“And mine.” Loki lies, for he has the filing well in hand. He will lunch with his Stark-reader, and the new work of “hard Science Fiction” he has downloaded onto it; it is no matter. “This meeting will go well,” he says, although that is a lie too. “I bid you, do not worry.”

“Yeah, I won't.” Bruce looks both ways, then kisses him regardless of the passers-by. He turns and hurries toward his office, and Loki watches him leave, before seeking out the coffee merchant's stall, there to purchase breakfast.

The day passes quickly, Loki's archiving work, by now so familiar that the papers almost fly through his fingers. He lets his hands do what they are trained to do, and occupies his mind with the minutiae of talk between the ladies in Reception ...until Blanca makes comment: “Marlys from Oncology says she saw you kiss Dr. Banner in the hallway.” Not knowing if Bruce wishes their relationship made public, Loki evades, then opens Pandora on his Stark-phone and puts in his earbuds, to block further conversation. 

A buzz from the phone distracts him halfway through the afternoon. “Loki, good news.” It is Tony, his constant enthusiasm unmistakeable. “ _Really_ good news. You getting done at your usual time? And Bruce?”

“We will be done.” Loki feels curiosity stir. Everything is always important and urgent with Tony, but normally he does not call him at work. “What is the news?”

“Shhh. Good demigods do their work when they're at work. I'll tell you over dinner. I have a table reserved at Buona Tavola. Remember when I said we had to teach you about pasta? – And grappa, you have not _lived_ until you've tried grappa...”

Strangely, Loki's hands continue to work throughout Tony's talk. This is proof of his mastery of the task of filing. He finishes, actually early, and waits for Bruce at a table near the coffee-merchant's stall, lest Cindy and Blanca ask further questions about the kiss. He orders coffee _decaffeinated_. Doing so seems mere pathetic mortal weakness, but in truth, the substances contained in coffee do interfere with his sleep. No doubt this is another side-effect from Odin's bracelets.

Bruce meets him at 5:30. “Dinner at Buona Tavola? You'll learn about _fancy_ Italian food there. And we meet him there?” His hand just brushes Loki's face. “Did you get asked all day about us kissing too?”

Loki leans into his touch. “When I allowed the chance.” He looks at Bruce. What are his thoughts about the kiss? Was it his way of indicating that their relationship would no longer be secret, or an accident merely? 

“I'm not ashamed.” Bruce sounds thoughtful, a little uncomfortable. “I know Tony's not either. – Hell, if it were up to him, this would be all over the gossip sites already. – It's just...” He swallows. “What we have together is really good. It feels like we'd ...I don't know, like we'll jinx it or something if we go public right away.”

“Jinx?” Loki looks up at him. The word is unfamiliar. 

“It means cause bad luck.” A faint blush colors Bruce’s cheeks. “...It means Bruce is being an idiot.”

It means he has been lonely too long, and now he cannot trust his happiness. Loki feels deep kinship with him in that. “We had best depart, had we not?” Loki rises, gulping the last of his coffee. “Is the restaurant far from here, Bruce?”

Buona Tavola is actually very close. They walk. – They walk, not holding hands, as Loki would have liked, but each in his separate bubble of space, as though Bruce would fain protect the last shreds of his privacy. – 

Tony is already at the restaurant. He has taken a table in the bar, while he awaits their dinner table being prepared. This business of using _two_ tables for one meal makes no sense to Loki, but it seems to be the custom in Midgard. As Bruce and Loki enter, he waves them into the bar, to a small booth, with glasses aready, and numerous small plates of food. 

“Appetizers. They call them that because by the time your meal comes you don't have any appetite left. -- Meat for the Asgardian.” Tony shoves a plateful of juicy red sliced beef toward Loki. “And here's some kind of bean-things for you.” Another plate moves toward Bruce. “I don't know what they are, but they're good. You'll like them.” Tony grabs one and takes a bite. “Fried. Anything's better if it's fried. And drinks. I ordered champagne. It should be here in a minute.”

Bruce lifts an eyebrow. “Champagne?” There is a significance to this particular beverage on Midgard, Loki is not entirely sure of the details. It has, he thinks, a connection with celebration.

“You're worth it.” Tony's hand reaches across the table to squeeze Bruce's for a moment. Then Loki's. “You too, Reindeer Games. Besides, I got good news today.”

His hands are back on their side of the table by the time the champagne arrives. “A toast!” -- Tony waves their server close. “Go get a glass, babe, you have to join us.” 

The girl hurries to snatch a glass for herself, and returns. She smiles. “If you say so, Mr. Stark.” – 

“...A toast,” he says again when they all have full glasses. “To my sweet...” He catches Bruce's eye and stops. “...Er, to my _model_ , I should say.” He indicates Loki with his glass. “Meet Loki Laufeyson, who will be modeling Stark Industries' latest development in super-hero technology, holographic armor.”

“It's true.” The server has wandered off somewhere, – To _serve_ someone, probably. – and they are alone again. “Fury phoned this afternoon and we've got SHIELD's okay for you wearing the suit. And the Board _loves_ it, Loki. It smells of free publicity to them: Ex-Super-Villain, Now Fighting on the Side of Good... The headlines practically write themselves.”

Fighting? This is the first Loki has heard of there being any fighting. “I thought I was to wear the suit only for this Expo of yours.”

“Exactly right!” Tony nods. He grabs a handful of Bruce's fried beans, then shoves another plate their way. “Vegetarian pate. You'll _love_ it, both of you. – Yeah, Loki. It's a model-thing right now. You'll just practice some with the suit first, to make sure you can handle it. Maybe later though... Think about it at least, okay? I've told you about Rhodey and the War Machine suit, right?” His voice softens. “I like fighting next to to my friends.”

Loki swallows. What is it he is thinking about? The possibility of his fighting armored, rather than with his own powers? ...Of fighting alongside The Avengers, who before, were his foes? ...Of serving their interests, rather than his own? He scarce feels as Tony's hand touches his shoulder. “Yeah it's a lot, I know.” And when he turns his attention to Bruce instead, it is a relief. 

“So how did the meeting go? Mr. What's-His-Butt, the guy with the bad insurance, is he going to get his treatment?”

Bruce frowns. “I don't know.”

“How come?” Tony refills his glass as he speaks. 

“See, the cancer's really aggressive, but it's not normal, it doesn't follow the same pattern as the cancers everyone's used to seeing.” Bruce gives a snort. “Obvious, since it's not from this dimension. Chitauri diseases are going to be different, just like Chitauri physiology. The hospital doesn't want to admit that though. 'It's a cancer,' they say. 'Let his primary insurance cover the costs.'”

And they won't. That's what he's getting at. “The primary insurance is refusing to cover anything but the same treatment you'd give another cancer. Anything else: 'Oh, it's _experimental_ ,' they say. 'We'll only cover treatments that have been _proven effective_.' I've managed to grow cancerous cells in one of the Chitauri tissue samples I got after the invasion.” Bruce pokes at the pate on his plate with his knife, taking no taste of it. “If I can prove my treatment works on the sample, they say _maybe_ they'll okay it for Mr. Villa.” Another snort, this one contemptuous. “Yeah right, because human bodies _always_ respond the same way as alien tissue samples! They ought to okay it because this is the only chance he's got. – Hell, the hospital ought to just admit reality: If an alien disease starts showing up right after an alien invasion, how the hell do you turn around and say they're not connected?”

“...Because they're all about the bottom line.” Tony finishes his thought for him. “You don't have to tell me, I go through the same thing with my Board all the time. Only...” His usually playful face is serious. “...There's not usually anybody's life on the line.”

“Well this time there is.” The pate on his plate is already in fragments, but Bruce stabs it again, the movement abrupt. “Bottom line, Mr. Villa might die anyway, but he's got a slim chance of survival if we do the surgery. Otherwise...”

Otherwise, he dies. Does he care, Loki wonders? Does it matter if one mortal dies a little before the end of his short lifespan? They are a fragile race, and it is not like he would have survived so much longer anyhow. But Bruce cares, and he cares about Bruce. 

“I'm fucking up your dinner, Tony.” Bruce looks down at his plate. “You were so happy. Tell me, what is it exactly you've done?”

Some of the enthusiasm has gone away, but not all of it. Tony at his most serious, is not an unenthusiastic person. “Well you know the Stark Expo is coming up in April. And I wasn't sure Reindeer Games was going to get to model the Loki-suit...”

“And he gets to after all?” Bruce smiles, a faint smile at first. “I'm glad. It's what you wanted, isn't it, Tony?”

It is what Tony wanted. Is it what Loki wants? The thought is confusing: He will be _wearing_ all of the power that was once his through his study of magic. He will be ...under the control of another, as he was once under Thanos' control, but what does that mean? The power is his while he holds it. While it is his, he may act as he chooses and none will stand in his way. What would he do with that power?

He has seen the patients at Bruce's clinic. He has seen Mr. Villa, who is gaunt beyond what is natural for humans, and who comes to his appointments with a grey-haired man who is his father, because his wife is at work and cannot drive him. Sometimes he brings babes with him, two stripling boys, who may grow up fatherless, because of the heartless decisions of men who have never seen him. That is not right. If he controlled this realm, Loki thinks, he would not allow such things to happen.

But if he uses the Loki-suit to gain power, these who have become his friends will oppose him. There will be a fight, and this time there is no army to stand at his back. And what will happen between him and his friends? If he wins, it will be at cost of their lives; and if he loses, he will have lost hope of redemption in their eyes forever.

Loki swallows. For a long moment, he does not speak, but merely lets the others' conversation pass over him. The “appetizers” have been cleared, their empty bottle has been taken away, and their server has ushered them to the second table they will occupy for the night by the time he knows what he will say.

“Tony's suit is a magnificent piece of work.” The surprised expressions on the others' faces tell him that mayhap the subject of their conversation has changed without his notice, but he continues. “It is truly worthy of admiration, by his 'Board' and by the mortals who will view it at the 'Expo'. I will be proud to demonstrate it, that all may see it at its best.”

Loki sees Tony blink. He shares a glance with Bruce then, naturally, he is the first one to answer. “Damn straight! See, I knew you’d like it. – Did you notice the gold detailing on the chest? How about a green cape: What do you think, too much?”

“Tony...” Bruce, for his part, puts his hand on Tony's arm. His eyes though, those warm, brown eyes of his, meet Loki's. “Shhh. Anyone ever tell you, you talk too much?”

“Just about twenty times an hour...” The words die away. Now Tony looks at Loki too. “You're being really cool about this. I know it isn't what you thought you'd be doing with your life.”

It is an enormous understatement. Odin's words flash into his mind: _Both of my sons were born to be Kings..._ He is no King here, not even unofficially and uncrowned, like Tony. He is not even a recognized hero, as is Bruce, but merely a common, ordinary person, who toils at common, ordinary pursuits as do all the other Mayfly-lived mortals of this planet. And he has no knowledge at all of how long he must live like this, of when, or even if, Odin will condescend to glance his way again and perhaps end his punishment. It matters, oh yes, it matters to him, but strangely, not as much as he would have expected.

“We control not our fate.” Loki's voice is soft. He meets, and holds Tony's gaze, staring into the depths of his blue eyes, seeing naught there but love and acceptance. “All that lies in our hands is to make the best of what the Norns give us.”

“Yeah, well my parents raised me Episcopalian. Only we never went to church. I think I've got a baptismal certificate somewhere...” It is Tony's usual blather. It means nothing, save that his mouth works faster than his brain. Now as Loki watches, his lips curve up in a warm smile. “Whatever works for you, Loki. If it means you're here with me and Bruce and you're happy about it, that's what matters.”

_Happy_. It is not the word he would have used, to describe his exile and the sealing of his powers. And yet it works. It works better than any other word he could have found. “I am happy, Tony.” 

For once, even Tony says nothing. There is silence for a long moment. Then, unexpectedly, Bruce reaches out to take both their hands. “Me too,” he says.

“And the Other Guy?” Tony's voice is uneven. This is a joke, Loki thinks, but underneath the humor is truth.

Bruce is silent for a moment. Then when he speaks, he smiles. “Him too. I think he's decided to include you in his list of non-smashable people.”

“Good. I can't think of a giant green monster I'd rather have like me.”

Loki is not sure how long they sit like that, holding hands and in silence. It is not important, he thinks. There is peace and comfort between them. Only when the dark-clad woman who is their server returns, clearing her throat to get their attention, do they move apart.

Tony looks up. “You want me, babe?”

The woman's eyes, like those of so many when they gaze upon Tony Stark, are bright with admiration. “I can come back if you're not done praying yet.”

“Oh no, that's okay.” Tony shares an amused look with the others. It is funny, Loki thinks, because there is an actual god at the table. “We're ready. Tell us your specials. You got anything that's heavy on the meat for my friend Loki here? And maybe something healthier for Bruce? He's a doctor. He likes to eat healthy.”


	14. The Expo.  And Some Other Shit That Happened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is going just the way Tony wants it to, but not so much for Bruce. This ...causes some problems.

The Expo's on a weekend, because the Expo's always on a weekend. Trust Howard Stark to know how to make the biggest splash. You don't just want the people in the industry there, you want everyone there. Friday, Saturday, Sunday, mark it on your calendar: The Annual Stark Enterprises Expo, showcasing the very latest technology. Just because he's out of the weapons business, that doesn't mean Tony's going to break with tradition. Not when the stuff he's got to show is as awesome as it is this year. Thursday, April 18, he's up all night. – He and Loki. – Loki's testing all the features on the Loki-suit, and he's making little adjustments to make sure they work the way he wants them to. Then Loki gets this idea that the black parts of the suit aren't shiny enough, so they're digging through his shit to find the right paint to make them shinier. ...And then they have to go out to find it, because picky-Loki isn't satisfied with what any of his paints will do. 

And then it's morning, and Tony doesn't feel sleepy because Tony never feels sleepy (or maybe it's the Americano with four shots they got at the Starbucks drive-through on the way back to the Tower). And Loki doesn't feel sleepy because ...well, because he's Loki. It goes with the super-strength, and the blue skin, that he swears he has, and he's going to show it to them as soon as Odin removes those damn bracelets of his and he can use his magic to remove the Asgardian-disguise. ...And Bruce? That's the only thing wrong with the day. Normally the first day of the Stark Expo is pretty much Tony's favorite day of the year, partly because it reminds him of his dad, and partly because it's the day he gets to show the whole world the fun things he's been working on. Not so much this year, when he and Loki come up from the workroom with the cases with their suits in them. His is red-and-gold and perfect, Loki's is green-and-gold and equally perfect. And there's Bruce with his hair every which way like he just got out of bed, but with this puffy look around the eyes that says he didn't sleep at all. 

Bruce has a cup of coffee in his hand: That crap instant stuff he makes for himself when it's just him at breakfast.

Tony takes it out of his hand. “I keep telling you and telling you, the Keurig won't bite.” He puts one hand on Bruce's shoulder, just enough of a touch to feel all the tension there. “Plus it's the easiest thing in the world to work it, you just have to let me show you. – Here, you sit down, I'll make your coffee. You can't go to work on that shit.”

“I shall make breakfast.” Loki! Breakfast! Like he's suddenly morphed into a cook, when they all three know he's been buying breakfast every morning at that coffee stand in the hospital, ever since SHIELD sent Steve to Latveria.

Bruce looks at him. “I think I might rather go hungry.”

“Indulge me, pray. Scrambled eggs are surprisingly simple to prepare. The Captain showed me how to do it before he left.” 

Loki! Scrambled eggs! If Daddy Odin could see him now... “Make me some too,” Tony tells him from the kitchen, where he's firing up the Keurig. “You take milk in your coffee, right Bruce? You want Tanzanian Peaberry or Guatamala-Antigua?”

“Just coffee, all right?” Bruce huffs a sigh. “I don't know. Whichever. I'll just be glad when this damn day is over.”

That's right. That's what's bothering him. This is an important day for Bruce as well. It's why he can't be at the Expo: He's finally got the go-ahead to do that guy's surgery.

“Mr. Villa, right?” He brings the steaming cup of Guatamala-Antigua over to Bruce at the table. “You should be glad, he's finally getting the surgery.”

“Yeah.” No thanks to the hospital, Bruce has already explained. No thanks to Mr. What's-His-Butt's insurance either, which still says the procedure is “experimental”. It's some outside charity that raised the money. Some kind of a Ronald McDonald House for grown-ups or something. “As long as it's not too late.”

“Too late?” Here comes Loki with a couple plates of scrambled eggs. They ...look all right. Tony sits down to eat some.

“The cancer has 'metastasized'. – That is the word, is it not, Bruce? – It means it has spread...” 

“Yeah. I know what metastasized means.” Tony digs a fork into the eggs. They taste all right too. “Are you worried you won't get all of it, Bruce?”

Bruce shakes his head. “That's one of the differences between this and an Earth-cancer: It's really really easy to pinpoint this one in the x-rays. But it's just tremendously debilitating. Way more than an Earth-cancer would be. And Mr. Villa's been waiting so long...”

He's afraid he won't survive the surgery.

“Bruce has explained this to me,” Loki says. “The surgery will take many hours. Mortals do not fare well when they are under anesthesia for so long. He fears it will be too much for Mr. Villa's frail body.”

Bruce scoops eggs into his mouth, but it doesn't look like he's tasting them. “Let's just assume the best, okay? Probably he'll be fine. I'll get all the cancer, and tomorrow when the anesthesia wears off, his wife will be there and she can go see him. I don't want to fuck up your Expo, Tony. You've worked too hard to get ready.”

Yeah, but this is a guy's life at stake. “Seriously Bruce, you do not need to worry. You know me: I can get hyper at the drop of a hat, just give me the opportunity. You've got to think about your patient.”

Bruce's face goes closed. He grabs his half-empty plate and heads for the kitchen with it. “He'll be fine,” he says. “You and Loki don't have to worry. Just go to the Expo. About five tonight after the surgery's finished, I'll text a picture of his wife visiting him in the ICU. It'll be great. She's taken the weekend off work so she can be with him.” He gives an unconvincing laugh. “You know I think this will be the first time I've met her?”

“Bruce...” Loki goes to him. 

Tony's right there behind. “What if Loki goes with you? I'll rearrange the schedule at the Expo. We'll unveil the Loki-suit Saturday. – Sunday would work too, if you have to be at the hospital tomorrow.”

Bruce shakes them both off. “I don't need Loki holding my hand.” There's no room for argument in his voice. “I'm going to be at the hospital today. Tomorrow I'll be on-call, but I can go to the Expo. Just let me do this, okay? You guys go to the Expo. Pepper's counting on it being both of you.”

Major downer-time? Tony watches as Bruce dumps his dirty cup in the sink and glances at his watch. “I should be going anyway.” His eyes are tired, and his hair looks like he styled it with a leaf-blower. Bruce isn't your tidiest guy in the world even on regular days, but today it looks like he got dressed in the dark, and you can see the tension in his shoulders just from the way he's standing. There's a lot riding on this surgery today, and he isn't hopeful about it, and it shows.

Try doing anything to help him though. The guy's prickly as a porcupine. He leans in to Tony and Loki, brushing kisses in the direction of their cheeks. “Have fun at the Expo, all right? We'll be together tomorrow. I’ll text and let you know how the surgery goes.”

“It'll be a success.” Tony brushes the strayest of the stray locks of his brown hair out of his eyes. “Because you're a genius-doctor.”

“It'll be a success,” Loki echoes, “because the staff at the clinic does good work. They are your people, yours and Dr. Vang's, and you have chosen them wisely.”

See now, there's the good thing about sending your reforming super-villains to work in hospitals: Unlike Tony's, Loki's words actually manage to wipe a little of the tension off Bruce's face. He relaxes a little.

“Yeah, they are, aren't they?” Then he's gone, and it's on to the Expo, for Tony and Loki.

They press through the crowds waiting to get in, to meet Pepper at the door: “Tony, the news media is all over this.” She's a cool drink of water, in one of those light-colored suits she likes that always manage to show off plenty of T&A, and still make her look like the classiest woman in the room. “Half of them are saying this is just a publicity stunt, and the others are saying if you can really pull this off, Iron Man should run for mayor in the next election. – Oh, good morning, Loki.” She turns his way with a smile. “You know Stark Enterprises stock's gone up ten points this morning, just because of you?”

“I am merely doing a favor for a friend.” Tony's not sure what he was expecting bringing Loki someplace crowded like this. When's he ever seen him with a crowd before? Only on that taped footage from Stuttgart ...well, unless you count the Chitauri Army as a crowd. He's perfectly calm though, no fear, but also no “kneel before my might you puny mortals,” kind of rabble-rousing. He just looks polite and dignified, in his black suit that's a little too heavy for the April weather (but he won't let Tony get him a different one). He looks like he belongs here. And, like Pepper, he also manages to be sexy as hell at the same time. “The Loki-suit does not belong to me, but is meant as a demonstration of Tony's technological prowess.”

“It works. Be prepared to say that a lot today though, Loki. We've got reporters here from all over the world. I've already told Al Jazeera you're not doing interviews, and I think you've got a Fox News reporter camped out in your dressing room.” Now they're following Pepper's magnificent ass into the Expo-building. They're taking a kind of a roundabout route, all back sides of curtains and tangled equipment that doesn't look like it's been dusted for 100 years.

“That explains why we're back here?”

“You told me you wanted the suit to be a surprise.” Pepper turns. “I know you, Tony. The only way there's going to be any surprise left by the time you demo it, is if I don't let you talk about it to anybody.” Yeah, she knows him. She knows him too well. “I don't know about Loki,” she adds. “He's probably not as much of a blabbermouth as you, but it's best to be careful.”

“Plus he might not like getting piled on by reporters.” Tony for his part, _loves_ getting piled on by reporters. He's kind of sorry it's a bank of dusty lighting he's facing, and not the guy from Al Jazeera with the cameraman in back of him. But here's the thing about working _with_ someone for a change: He can talk for himself, but he can't talk for Loki, and it's that Super-Villain-Into-Super-Hero-For-A-Day thing that has everyone talking. He knows what he's implying by putting Loki into a suit, but it's not up to him whether Loki will take the invitation or not. If Loki wants to take the suit off and go back to being a file clerk or whatever at the hospital, instead of being an Avenger, Tony had better not have made anyone any promises.

“The Expo opens at ten. You've got a meeting with the Board at nine. – Will Loki be there too?” 

Tony, who hadn't actually planned on being there himself, if he could get away with not, looks at him. He gets a nod, then sees Loki sneak a glance at his Stark-phone. It's too early for Bruce's text, he must just be feeling worried. He leans over to pat his shoulder, then nods at Pep. “Yeah.”

“I've got drinks for you in the meeting-room: Caffe Americano with four shots, and the same with milk in it for Loki. Breakfast is fresh pastries and strawberries.” Cool lift of one classy eyebrow: “I know how much you love strawberries, Tony.”

Breakfast with the Board, oh goodie. A person's got to admire how surgically Pepper manages to get them there, and fill up all their time before the opening. – Thinking “surgically” reminds him of Bruce, and Tony finds himself checking _his_ Stark-phone too. No news. Just exactly what he should have expected. -- Then it's on to the meeting, and a lot of blah-blah and blather:

“New _suit_ , Tony?”

“Yes, yes.” (yawn)

“Do you think it's _wise_? ...Blah-blah, super-villain... Yadda yadda, _danger_... Chitauri... Half of Manhattan...”

“It's not wise, it's fuckin' brilliant,” says one fat guy who wouldn't know “brilliant” if it came up and bit him in the ass.”

“If you don't like it gentlemen, please feel perfectly free to contract with Justin Hammer for your design needs from now on. I've only single-handedly guaranteed international headlines for Stark Enterprises for the next three days. But if you want to nit-pick about who's a super-villain and who's a super-hero...” – Pepper's mad face. _This is what four shots of espresso, on top of the four shots I got at the Starbucks with Loki, do to a guy, Pep. You should have known better._ – 

“Oh no, that won't be necessary... Tony, we trust you, of course...” 

_Can the bullshit gentlemen,_ he thinks. _The Loki-suit's got more reporters on it than Kim Kardashian's ass. Stark Enterprises stock prices have been shooting up ever since I announced it, and the only way I could possibly make this better, would be for Loki to pop out a baby up on stage and name it after Justin Bieber. That's what you “trust”._ Pepper can be glad he doesn't say that out loud. Tony looks down the table to Loki, who's been sitting quietly through all the reactions (and eating all the chocolate muffins out of the pastry basket). “I'm done with this meeting. How about you, Loki?”

Loki looks in the basket: No more chocolate muffins – No more chocolate anything. – “Quite done, Tony.” Elegant little move, as he takes a silly pink napkin and wipes the chocolate off his hands, one finger at a time. Then he stands. “Shall we leave?”

Further glance at his Stark-phone a while later, shows Stark Enterprises stock rose five more points just from the meeting. Tony happened to notice around lunchtime when he was checking – _Again!_ Even though he knew there wouldn't be one. – for a text from Bruce. Then lunch happens (quickly), then some other stuff. Then finally it's time for the whole goddamn point of the Expo: 

No more skulking around backstage. No more hiding from reporters. No meetings with fat guys whose Armani suits struggle to fit around their bellies. The Expo is open, and every eye's on Tony (the way it should always be). Everyone wants to _see_ his tech, and everyone wants to _hear about_ his tech. And everyone wants to know more about the guy in the black-and-green suit with the nifty gold detailing.

“Something-something... In the munitions business again, Mr. Stark?” A reporter from the audience.

“An understandable misunderstanding.” Tony fires off a couple of repulsor-blasts, just little ones, just to get everyone's attention. “Of course repulsor technlogy is badass in this context, and I do have a few little things I can show you about the Mark VIII suit. – Not too much you understand. Somebody might be watching, Dr. Doom, or Whiplash or somebody. – It's important to realize that technology is a two-edged sword. The same power that can destroy a city in one context, can also build one in another. My patented Stark Enterprises reactor core already fuels Stark Tower. It'll be ready to fuel all of New York City, maybe the whole country, in another year or two. And I'm in the middle of developing a modified repulsor system to use for construction. There's going to be a presentation on that tomorrow, I think.”

“Mumble-mumble...” – Dammit, if these reporters would speak up! – “Something-something ...other suit?”

“Oh yes, the other suit. My associate, Loki of Asgard... – Perhaps you remember him? Take the helmet off Loki, give our nice friends a bow.”

To give Loki credit, he does. ...Well he takes the helmet off anyway. Then he looks at Tony like _I'll be fucked if I'm going to bow to these dumbasses._ Fortunately he's got Tony with him, who's a genius of publicity.

“Isn't that a nice suit? We're going to be demo-ing a couple of the effects. – Not too many again. Loki's considering an offer to be an Avenger right now, and we don't want the baddies knowing all our tricks. But the point is, the same tech that makes the holograms for the Loki-suit also has some incredible peacetime uses. That's really what Stark Enterprises wants to...”

Oh yeah, there's that. The suit. Suddenly there's this buzz all over the auditorium: “Loki, an Avenger? Mumble-mumble Stuttgart... Blah-blah explosions... Three hundred dead... I heard four hundred... Portal... Chitauri... Are you sure we can trust him, Mr. Stark?”

Loki looks at Tony, and Tony looks back at him through the helmet of the Mark VIII. This one's is to answer. Tony knows what he'd like him to say, but it's up to Loki what he will say. He looks out at the crowd.

“Tony is my friend.” Loki's head is high and his voice is even. Well Tony knew he could face a crowd calmly, didn't he? It's what he did at Stuttgart. He makes his voice carry this time too, only without shouting. There's none of that “kneel puny mortals” thing either, which is another plus. “I would not dishonor a friend,” Loki says, “by destroying an event that means so much to him.”

It's not the answer Tony wanted. – It's not even the answer he expected. What the hell does it mean? That he would take the suit and go rogue if it weren't for the Expo? That he's thought about it? He looks over at Loki: There's no crazy that he can see there. He doesn't look like he's plotting anything. Maybe this is just him being dignified, and not backing down on stuff he's said before? Hopefully?

As for the villain in question though, he's still talking. “Midgard is not my homeland, and yet I have come to love it for the sake of the friends I have made here. I would not...” Loki raises his voice over the rising tide of mumbles coming from the audience. “I say I _would not_ see more of your fragile, mortal creatures harmed by my actions. Your lives, short enough, should be lived in peace.”

Okay, Tony breathes easier. As for the audience though, they're still hung up on the whole Loki Becoming an Avenger thing. “Loki, Loki,” comes a shout from one of the reporters down front. “Have you considered Mr. Stark's offer to fight with The Avengers?” “Is that something you can see yourself doing?” someone else says. And, “What does SHIELD have to say about the idea?”

Tony can see Loki's body stiffen. “Silence, mortals.” His voice is colder, commanding. “This is not the purpose of my friend Tony's 'Expo', to discuss what Loki Laufeyson will or will not do with his future. That is my decision, and I make it alone. You are here to view Tony's 'tech'. Come, gaze upon the suit. Witness the abilities he has given it, which mimic so effectively the powers I have gained through my centuries of study.” He raises a hand, activates the hologram field just like they talked about. One minute he's still where he was, the next minute he's on the other side of the stage. He could have been in Stuttgart though, for all the attention the audience is paying him.

Loki keeps on doing what they'd planned for him to do. Tony sees his hand move. He activates the multiple hologram-generator in the palm, and a moment later there are 20 Loki's all standing protectively around the first one. Down in the audience though, there's not a soul watching. They're all busy tapping away on phones and iPads. Twitter must be lighting up right now. Too bad he's not online to enjoy it. Tony goes over to his now increasingly-irritated model. 

“Ah, Loki...” A furious, green-eyed glance turns his way. “Loki, don't worry if we didn't show them everything. They got what they wanted, and so did we.”

“What, pray, did they want?” Loki throws a contemptuous glance out, at the sea of heads bent over devices. 

Tony shrugs. The audience wanted to see a celebrity, that's how it always was. He's a genius, but half the time he could just toss out crap-designs at them, and it wouldn't matter. He's fuckin' Tony Stark, baby. And now Loki's fuckin' Loki Laufeyson, the celebrity-that-just-got-born. “They wanted to see you not kill someone.”

“As if I would.” Loki snorts. He looks back out at the audience. “Are we really all done here? Am I finished with the suit?”

“Not yet.” Tony leads him offstage. “The tech-geeks will be around after this crowd clears out. They'll want to see all the bells and whistles.” He takes Loki around the backstage route Pepper showed them, over to the Executive Pavilion in the main hall. “Coffee?” There's always coffee available in Tony's Pavilion. “You want more of those chocolate things you were eating before? I'm sure Pepper can find some for you.”

Loki shakes his head. He looks the place over, then takes a comfortable chair and pulls out his Stark-phone. “What are we going to do while we wait?”

“Well we could have mad monkey-sex all over the floor of the Pavilion...” Tony sits down. He pulls out his own Stark-phone. “I'm going to check my Twitter feed,” he says. “What do you want to bet you've gone viral?”

Loki mutters something about “viruses”. Oh yeah that's right, he works in a hospital doesn't he, Tony thinks. Which is probably why the ones he's muttering about include smallpox and diphtheria. He looks up, sweeps the Expo-floor with an irritated glance. “When are these 'tech-geeks' of yours going to appear? I grow tired of waiting.”

“Soon.” Better not tell him that half of every Expo involves waiting. Tony never minded much, himself. That's the time you rest up for being in the spotlight again. Come to think of it, the main way he usually does it, he thinks, is with mad monkey-sex... He's going to have to have Pep open up one of the offices backstage, someplace for him and Loki and Bruce to relax together, the last couple days this thing's going on. 

He unlocks his phone. There's a lot of voicemails. No surprises there. Also some texts. Who in their right mind would bug him when he's in the middle of the Expo? ...He’s got his Twitter feed up when he remembers: Oh yeah that's right, Bruce said he'd let him know how the surgery turned out.

“Tony...” He's scrolling through tweets about “playboy genius gone off the rails” and “Tony Stark, endangering the entire city of New York” (and a shitload of unauthorized pics of the new suits that he's going to have to flag for the legal department). Loki's voice is just a vague blur at the back of his head.

Then he hears it again: “Tony!” More urgent this time. “Tony, you want to look at this!”

He wants to look at his Twitter-feed. There's two things trending right now, and he's one of them... _One_ of them? The fuck? What else could possibly be happening to push him out of top slot? #BigGreen: What the fucking fuck? 

“Look Tony, _now_.” Loki tilts his phone so he can see it:

“Surgery bad. Villa dead,” Tony reads. Then, “How can they... something, something, something, a lot of letters that don't seem to make words, and a few places where the digital assistant has tried to guess what words he was trying to make, really wrongly.

“What the fuck?” he says. “It makes no sense.” Even while there's a creepy sense in the back of his head that it makes all too much sense, especially combined with #BigGreen.

Loki's dry voice: “Note the time of the message.” 

“5:30?” 

“The doctors and nurses remain at the hospital all day and all night,” Loki says. “They are _caregivers_. They give care. What you Midgardians call 'bureaucrats', the managers and 'money-pushers' and such, go home exactly at five every day because they care not.”

“So?” This is happening too fast. It blurs in his head, and he can't seem to make the connection between the text and what Loki's saying and everything else. Brilliant Tony. 

Loki scowls. “ _So_? Think you not that Bruce was angry after the death of his patient? And when angry, doth he not seek redress? But with the bureaucrats gone, from whence could such be obtained?”

“And what happens to Bruce when he can't solve what he's angry about...” Tony looks back at his own phone. Suddenly that hashtag makes all too much sense. He looks:

“Monster destroys National Insurance building.” –

“Oh, fuck.” Tony just mutters it. –

“SUNY School of Optometry, blah-blah-blah,” “Swath of destruction, yadda-yadda...”

He looks over at Loki. “He's headed for Penn Station. Central Park's not far from there. Maybe we can get him to...” _Get him to what? Oh jesus, think, Tony!_ “Listen, Hulk likes us. Remember? Bruce said? If we can get there in time... If we can get him to move...”

“He can release his anger upon the trees and the grass.” Loki finishes his thought. “You had best suit...” He looks at Tony. “But you are already 'suited-up', aren't you?”

Tony can't help an uneven laugh. Tension or something. He looks at Loki. “So are you. Good thing I made you practice so much, before.”

Loki looks down at his armored body. “This is not why I agreed to wear your suit.” He frowns. “And I had my powers free...”

_...You'd do this and that, and yadda-yadda-yadda..._ It was Bruce that always finished the sentence whenever Loki started. Remembering that, Tony's stomach twists.

He looks back at Reindeer Games, and the suit which is suddenly way more than an awesome little tech-demo. “It flies Loki, remember?”

That pulls Loki out of his _OMG MY LOST POWERS_ spiral, and he gives Tony a grin. “How could I forget, after you made me practice so? The man in the drive-through line was _quite disturbed_ when we came through...”

“...And you said the Whopper was the worst food you had ever tasted since you came to Midgard.” Tony grins back. He presses the button: Neatly, his helmet slides into position. “Suit up, Loki. You're a super-hero for now, whatever you might want to do later.”

The face-mask slides into position on the Loki-suit. Loki's eyes, his face are gone, replaced by the gold detailing and green LED-lights. “I am ready.” His voice is the echo-y, tech-y voice Tony associates with combat. It's a little exciting. He thought about Loki-as-an-Avenger when he was making the suit, but here it is now, reality. Even if it's just for this once, he's standing by Loki to defend something they both believe in.

“Let’s go.” His own mask hides the roughness in his voice (he hopes), and as for the sudden dampness in his eyes, well there's nobody but JARVIS inside the suit to see it.

They launch. -- Funny, to see Loki aim for the skylight. It's the best place for them to leave by, but Tony hadn't expected that level of consideration for a Midgardian building. – Tony follows the green trail of Loki's jet-stream, high above New York, and southeast toward Penn Station. It's not far, straight-shot, they can get there in a couple minutes. The problem is, _Hulks move._.

They cross Tenth Avenue, and there's nothing. Buildings are still standing, no police presence or big green monsters. Ninth Avenue, Eighth and 38th Street... Then all of a sudden at Seventh and 34th, blammo, it's like a war zone.

“Hey, Rudolph...” Direct communication, one of the better ways he's upgraded his own suit to work with Loki's. “Remind you of anything?” The Chitauri invasion, he's thinking.

Loki of course, just gives an impatient snort. “Destroyed, your Midgardian buildings all look the same.”

Tony scans. If Bruce is down there, he should see him, right? They're not up that far, and let's face it, it's hard to miss a Hulk. He looks... He should see ...something. “Where're the people,” he mutters more to himself than to Loki. “Where are the emergency vehicles?”

“I see trucks.” Loki's looking at the ground too. He points. “There: Whose are they?”

Tony takes a quick look. The further east they get, the more of them there are: Heavily armed men in riot-gear. “Either SHIELD or the cops.” Something crawls in the pit of his stomach. He heads the suit downward.

“Loki, who was that guy...” Down closer where he can see more, Tony is starting to get seriously creeped out. Those aren't cop-trucks he's seeing. And there are fucking dozens of them, plus operatives all over the place. “...That General... – You know, the one Bruce told us about? What was his name?”

“I know not his name... – Am I to remember the names of every puling mortal I meet?” Irritation clouds Loki's voice. It's only because he's scared. The closer they get, the more scared Tony is too. 

“Ross...” He just mutters it. “General Ross.”

“SHIELD,” Loki says at the same time. “The men are with SHIELD.”

Almost to the ground by now, Tony has a good view of what's happening. Yeah, these are SHIELD trucks, SHIELD men... -- He even recognizes some of them. -- They've got the place locked down tight, and they're not moving. He looks at Loki. “They've got Bruce.”

Another snort from the Loki-suit tells him Loki's already figured out the same brilliant conclusion. The SHIELD men would still be moving if they hadn't caught him yet. He doesn't answer though, just sweeps his gaze around as they descend, then lands next to the most familiar face they can see.

“This woman...” He looks at Tony. “What was her name?”

“Tony Stark.” Agent Hill's already stepping forward. “SHIELD's been following news of your new suit.”

Yeah, they would. Tony puts his own hand out though. No reason to be rude to the nice lady. “Always a pleasure to see you, Ms. Hill. How have you been?”

She gives him a cool look. Pepper's tough, but this chick would kick Pepper's ass just to get past her to a machine that was malfunctioning. She'd sign arrest warrants at the breakfast table. The only thing this babe's scared of is Fury, and then, only because he out-ranks her. “I was just fine, Mr. Stark. Then certain people started handing out military-grade hardware to known super-villains,” – A nasty look darts Loki's way. A really fast look; if you blinked, you'd miss it. – “and risking them close to other people who they knew perfectly well are too vulnerable to handle it.”

That's Bruce. She thinks Loki's why he Hulked out. “Listen,” he tells her. “You haven't been there, you don't know what the fuck you're talking about. Loki's been a good friend to Bruce. If he'd been at the hospital today, this Hulk-out probably wouldn't have happened.” 

“You will tell us where Bruce is.” Loki steps up beside him. He's all Prince of Asgard, “Obey puny mortals,” and shit like he always gets when he's mad. Tony sees Agent Hill pale. She glances behind her, as if checking for back-up.

“ _You_ should be in custody.” Give the girl credit, her voice still sounds as official as ever, though. Fury sure made a good choice when he promoted this one, who faces down super-villains like a cop who's just caught a tagger.

Loki snorts. “You have not the right to make me so, vile, mortal wench. I will... – You will...” He looks down at the gloves of his suit. There's enough power there to blow away everything SHIELD's got here, Tony knows because he's the one who put it there. He's starting to think maybe Agent Hill was right too, maybe he shouldn't have put all that power in Loki's hands. Then Loki drops his arms to his sides. There's a long hiss that sounds like steam escaping, but instead is the sound of one pissed-off Asgardian making himself calm down. “Take us to him,” he says in a lower voice. “I would minister to my friend.”

Agent Hill doesn't know what it's taking for Loki to stand so calm and quiet like that, but Tony does, and he's impressed. “We’re worried about Bruce,” he tells her. “Just let us see him, that's all we ask. I hope you'll forgive Loki's manners. Norse gods aren’t very good at saying ‘please’.”

A snort that sounds a lot like “certain playboy billionaires I could mention aren't either,” but all she says out loud is, “I can't do it, Mr. Stark, I'm sorry.”

“She can't.” Loki's fists clench. – He doesn't do anything, but his fists clench.

Agent Hill takes a step back. “I’m sorry.” She looks at Tony, _just_ at Tony. “It's out of my hands.” 

“Nick... Where is he?” He's not here, Tony's already seen that. “JARVIS, call Nick Fury's private number.” – Getting his Stark-phone wired into the suit's AI is one of the _other_ best ways he's upgraded the Mark VIII. – “If you won't help us, Agent Hill...” 

“If she won't help us...” Loki's voice is uneven. His hands fist and un-fist. Tony can't help it: His mind is flooded with images of Stuttgart, of the Chitauri invasion, and that nasty little knife Loki slipped into his brother's ribs back before he'd had his powers sealed. ...His powers, which _he_ gave back to him and more so...

“Calling, Nick Fury...” JARVIS' voice, barely-heard, goes unheeded inside his helmet.

“We don't have him.” Agent Hill looks from Tony to Loki and back again. Her voice isn't shaking, but she talks really fast, and she keeps looking from one of them to the other. “It's the Gamma Initiative. General Ross reports directly to the President.”

“General Ross.” Loki looks at Tony. “It is as you said.” He looks back toward Agent Hill, and something a lot like a growl from underneath his armor.

“Where is he?” Loki had better not lose control now. He'd better not, because Tony's beginning to think seriously about doing it himself. “You'd better tell us or... – What the fuck was Fury doing? He knows Bruce is an Avenger. He knows what Ross will do to him.”

“Make her tell us, Tony.” Loki's opened his hands again. They rest at his sides, but there's no calmness in them, and there's sure as hell none in his voice either. “Make her tell us, that I may resist the strong temptation I feel to destroy her. That would ...not be conducive to my reformation, I fear.”

“They're taking him to Virginia.” The long words help Agent Hill get her own calm back, Tony thinks. He can't hear her voice shaking any more, and she's stopped even looking at Loki. “SHIELD Testing Facility A-104. – You know the one.”

He does. He used to do weapons demos there in the old days. –

She eyes his suit up and down, and then flicks a glance over at Loki. “You'll probably beat the heli-carrier if you start now.”

It's as good as an invitation. Tony looks over at Loki, who looks back at him. You'd almost think that's a determined look on the suit's face, but it's probably just the set of his shoulders.

“We shall go to Bruce.” 

Tony nods.

“You know the location of this 'Testing Facility A-104'?”

“I do...” From inside the helmet, Tony hears a distant voice:

“Fury here... Tony? Tony, is that you?”

Finally. _Now_ his phone call decides to go through. “Hi, Nick?” He looks at Loki. “Give me a sec.”

“Hello Tony, if it isn't my favorite guy, who arms war criminals, but not the US Government.”

“Hello Nick, if it isn't my favorite guy, _who lets a fuckin' psychopath kidnap a member of the super-hero team he fuckin' organized himself._ Just so we're clear and all.”

Outside the suit, Tony sees Agent Hill looking at him. She holds up her wrist and taps it. _Yeah, no shit: Time's getting short to do the impossible thing we wouldn't have had to do if it weren't for your fuckin' guys. Tell me something I don't know._

“General Ross,” says Fury's voice on the telephone.

_Well I don't mean fuckin' Santa Claus._

“What took you so long, Tony?”

“The hell are you talking about, Nick? You know the Expo's this weekend.”

“I know you're harboring two of the most dangerous people on Earth, in that tower of yours, and SHIELD's been having to ignore it all this time. You're a loose cannon Tony. Usually you handle it all right, but then you let something like this happen...”

Pause for Tony to sputter: He _let_ this happen, right! ...Only he kind of sort of did, didn't he? He knew what was happening with Bruce and Mr. Villa. ...What was at-stake with the operation today. Suddenly there's guilt making his stomach hurt.

“That crazy-ass suit of yours, the one you gave...” He sort of spits the word. “...Loki: I suppose you armed it up the ass just like your own suit?”

“It can do a few things, yeah.”

“I saw where someone tweeted it can make holograms of itself. That's all a lot of bullshit, right? ...And that crap about it dematerializing?”

“That part's bullshit. Loki's a good illusionist...” Tony stops talking, as Fury's point starts to sink in.

“Yeah, no shit,” Fury says. “Your boyfriend got past us once to steal something already, remember?”

So he could do it again, yeah. Or some _body_...

“I don't know anything about this,” Fury's voice says over the telephone. “And Agent Hill doesn't know anything, and SHIELD... That suit you gave your little shit-boyfriend better be fast. There's something called plausible deniability. When it stops being plausible, I'm not going to waste my time denying it. I'll just be on your ass with all the rest of them if you're still there.”

Tony looks over at Loki. He's smart, he thinks fast... He's got the suit, which is designed to replicate all his best Trickster-moves. If you wanted somebody on your side, while you were sneaking into a government facility to steal a big green monster, could you do any better? ...If it can be done at all...

“And Tony,” comes Fury's voice again. “Get Bruce out of there. He doesn't deserve what that fuck Ross will do to him if you don't.”

“Roger that.” Tony looks at Loki. “You ready?”

A jerk of a nod. “We are going to this 'Facility', correct?”

“I'll lead, you follow.” It's pull-the-plan-out-of-your-ass time here: They're 400 miles away from the facility right now, but they've got the suits. Ross is in the heli-carrier, which is a tub on its best days. Overweight with the Hulk on board, it'll be slowed down further. “If we move fast we can still get there before Ross does,” he says. “Listen, Loki: Thor told me about that time you got him into the Hulk containment unit and dropped it into the ocean. You did something ...made something...”

“A doppelganger. You have given this suit capacity to do similar.” 

“Yeah, plus there's two of us this time. One really good at being distracting, and one really good at sneaking around. – JARVIS, engage the jets.”

The voice of his AI: “Jets engaging.”

“Follow me, Loki.”


	15. #BigGreen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two guys, two Stark Enterprises suits, and one goddamn fuckin' General who wants to experiment on their friend: Who are you going to bet on, ladies and gentlemen?

The beautiful, rolling hills of inland Virginia have always seemed like a really fucked-up place for a weapons testing facility. Even when he was the one doing the testing, Tony couldn't help noticing the irony. All that pretty-pretty wilderness, and then all of a sudden bang-o, there's the long, low SHIELD buildings, and the burned-over explosion sites, like a scar. Now as he and Loki follow the 288 south, and the congestion of Richmond disappears and he's seeing forest again, all he can think of is how much the green trees remind him of #BigGreen. Pretty soon Hulk's going to be down there, he thinks. They're going to be doing fuck-knows-what to him, and it's up to one guy in a suit, and his mood-disordered demi-god friend, to save him. Fuck.

Reality sits, kind of sour in his stomach. It bangs in his temples like that headache you get after a long night doing tequila shots off celebutantes' stomachs. Tony wonders what Loki's thinking. He glances over. But of course with the helmet in place, he's just this sleek, gleaming black-green-gold missile. This missile with the awesome Reindeer-Horns Tony gave him because they're just so fucking _Loki_. He starts running over all the moves he gave the thing when he was making it. – The moves Loki came to the workroom and described for him, and sometimes drew pictures so he could visualize them better. – Holographic images, those'll come in handy. ... _Moving_ holographic images. And there's that stealth-light thing, where the suit seems to fade away. He's still working to perfect that one, and when he's nailed it, it'll go on his own suit too. Right now it depends a lot on the guy wearing the suit. With a sneak like Loki, you basically can't see him until he wants to be seen, but Tony tried it himself once, and he might as well not even have bothered...

He stops when he realizes his mind's just running like a squirrel in a cage. Just worrying by another name, and if he doesn't stop it he's going to miss A-104 completely. They're going to fly and fly and fly, and all of a sudden they'll be over the ocean off Boca Raton. “Loki...” He fires up the suit-to-suit communication link, the better to keep his mind on what he's doing. “Loki, you see anything?”

“Anything?” The snotty tone of god-sarcasm doesn't quite hide Loki's worry. He's out to save Bruce just as much as Tony.

“Like a scarred, ugly piece of flat ground. Like someone hacked the top of one of these mountains off.”

“Mortal destruction. As yet I see it not, Tony. The mountains, they obscure what lies ahead.”

“Yeah, I think that's why SHIELD put it here.”

“That...” Loki points, throwing his flight-pattern a little to the left. “I see buildings.”

“What did I say about moving your arms when you fly?” Tony looks. “No, that's a city. The facility's west of here.”

“You will miss it.” -- They're both scanning the ground. Goddammit, Tony thinks, he's been here often enough. Just because he always came from Washington, with a lot of VIPs... It's not like he doesn't know the area. – “The heli-carrier will arrive before us, and we will miss our chance.”

“We're not going to miss fucking anything. Keep your eyes on the goddamn ground.” Tony stares. He watches as green hills give way to green valleys, and green valleys to more green hills. Then finally, off to the right: “Fuckin' there it is.” He points, and this time it's his own trajectory that wobbles.

“Ugly.” Loki angles toward the brownish bare area with the low buildings. As they get closer, the barbed-wire fences become visible, and rows of parked vehicles can be seen. “You mortals have quite defaced this beautiful valley. Why?”

“Weapons testing.” Coming still closer, they can see the heli-carrier hasn't arrived yet. Tony feels the knot in his stomach start to dissolve a little. “Finding ways to defend ourselves against our enemies.”

“This land was not an enemy, and yet you destroyed it. In Asgard we would do such a thing only to an enemy defeated. The Frost Giants...”

“Shut up about the Frost Giants. You are one, remember?” Tony scans the ground, now very close. “You see any guards around?”

“Guards?”

“Like the guys you shot getting out of that bunker, when you took the Tesseract.” Tony's looking himself. He doesn't see anyone.

“I see no one.” Loki's voice confirms it. 

Tony lands. “Good, that means we've got the advantage. We'd better be ready when they come, if we want to keep it.”

They land right in the center of the helipad, away from the buildings. Loki looks around. “Where will they will put Bruce?” 

Tony has no clue. All the times he's been here, it was to demo regular, normal weapons, which suddenly seem pretty harmless and wholesome, compared with the weaponized humans Ross is trying to make. 

“They will not move him until he is human again, surely.” Loki's voice, thinking aloud. “They will not dare to...” His voice breaks off. “I hear something.”

They're coming, getting close from the sound of it.

Tony points toward a tangle of bushes, off to the side of the concrete near where the road is. “We get in there. Give them, time to get off, then you come out, okay? And when you do come out, make sure there's a holo-me beside you.”

Loki nods, a tight little jerk of a nod. “I am the distraction, and you?”

“I disarm security. The heli-carrier is a Stark Enterprises product. – They're going to shoot at you, Loki.”

“I care not.” The inevitable, angry answer. Loki moves a little, and Tony sees his hands fist again inside their gauntlets. “And I get my hands on the man who is doing this...”

He'd better not go all psycho-god and fuck up their plans. This is only going to work if they both keep a level head the whole way through, and keeping a level head ...isn't one of Loki's best skills. “I meant the bullets will go right through the hologram,” Tony says. “You've got to keep them from noticing that until I can get their security offline. Give me five minutes, then make holograms of both of us and come on-board. It's going to take both of us to talk Bruce down, I think.”

“That is likely.” Loki's voice relaxes a little. “The guards will fight against our illusions,” he says, “but not for long.” He looks at Tony. “What will happen when they realize we're both on the carrier?”

“I fight, you talk to Bruce.” 

Loki gives a tight nod. 

Whappa-whappa-whappa, come the sounds of a big copter coming down. Wind picks up leaves and dust and swirls them in hurty spirals. “Come on.” Tony grabs Loki and pulls him toward the bushes. “Curtain time soon, Reinder Games.”

The carrier's an enormous beast, that blocks out the sun on its way down. It covers most of the helipad on the side away from where Tony and Loki are, angled so the crew is going to exit just a little way away from them.

“Get down!” Loki's hands on his arm come at him as a surprise. “You will be seen.”

“Yeah.” -- This isn't Loki's first battle, is it, Tony remembers? And this involves sneaking, which is pretty much his best ability. -- “Not very many shiny red-and-gold machines in the...”

Loki's hand across his mouth (even though that's not where the sound comes out). “Shhh!”

Tony shushes.

The carrier comes down in a growl of loud, overused-engine noise. Did his company give it Hulk-carrying capacity? Could he have been callous enough to do that? Or Obie maybe? Couldn't have been, Tony tries to tell himself, because at least they would have made sure the engine could handle the job better, but maybe they did, and this thing just really, really needs a tune-up.

The door opens and guys start coming out. -- Guys in black, SHIELD guys. – Then one guy in particular. Ross is one of those guys that loves his military uniform. He's pressed and polished, with his cap all nice and whatnot, set just a little low to shield his sunglasses.

Tony can't help moving a little when he sees him, but Loki grabs his arm. “There are more men to come, surely?” His voice is very low.

He watches as guys come out, then more guys... -- A whole clown-car worth of guys, practically. – Then Loki bobs up without telling him, and Tony sees “himself” bob up too, right next to him. “I am Loki of Asgard. You know me mortals? You have something that belongs to me, on this flying vehicle of yours.”

Get in, disarm security... Meanwhile, Loki's putting on the show of his life. He's front-page-full-type, the Villain-Who-Took-The-Guy's-Eye-In-Stuttgart, but how long's he going to be able to keep the SHIELD guys from noticing there's someone else, someone in awesome red-and-gold armor that he designed to be noticed, sneaking onto their carrier? Tony looks around: No one around for now. He'd better get to that control panel while he can. 

From outside, he hears one of the SHIELD-guys: “Don’t move! Keep your hands where I can see them.” 

Loki's answer: “My _hands_ , mortal? Think you, I cannot rip your living brain from your skull without e'en touching your pathetic, mortal body?”

Damn, but he's good! As long as... Tony just hopes SHIELD's going to buy that the holo-Tony would go along with this shit. How much of a reputation does he have for going rogue? And how many of these guards have had a chance to read about the Loki-suit and its holographic abilities? He slides his fingers along the control panel. He's the one that designed this goddamn carrier. Disarming security should be a piece of cake...

“That's bullshit.” From outside, he hears the voice of a guard. “You don't have your powers, Loki. You think all of us don't know that?”

“I have the powers of my friend Tony Stark.” Loki's creepy, silken voice... _Keep 'em talking,_ Tony thinks. _I'll have this done in a minute._ Tap-tap-tappity-tap... _Same password still in place as during the invasion? Your fault if you let hackers get near your aerial fortresses, motherfuckers._ “You have all worked with his 'tech'. You know what it can do. Think you that he has not made improvements, since he gave up selling to you?” 

“Stark, stand down.” That's Ross's voice. Tony knows him, he's had to listen to him often enough... And Ross knows him too, which is going to be a problem if this confrontation has to go much longer. He's not going to buy silent!Tony standing quiet by anyone's side, not even Loki's. Tap-tap. Tony keys in the password he remembers and pushes. This fuckin' better...

Outside, he hears Ross again. “You better collar your psychopathic little boyfriend and fast, Stark. I won't hesitate to use fire power if I need to.”

Psychopathic. He's one to talk... Tony lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, when the screen lights green and he knows security is offline. How much time has gone by? Three minutes? Four? Loki had better be keeping track. He'd better be ready to get onto the carrier before their whole illusion goes up in smoke.

“Who are you, mortal, to insult a Prince of Asgard so?” Damn, but that's a nasty, threatening tone Loki's giving the words! “You are a worm, who imprisons better men. Pray allow me to pass, or I will incinerate you where you stand!”

“Stark! What the hell?”

Tony hears the noise of firing. Ross firing? Loki? First one explosion, then lots of them. There's a firefight going on out there.

“Bruce is my good friend,” he hears Loki's voice. “He is better than all of you. How dare you...” Something-something-something, covered by the sounds of more explosions.

“You are overstepping your...” ...Something... “Gamma... groundbreaking... A force like that, used for...”

“My shield-mate!” He hears a yell, and then a particularly loud explosion. A moment later, while he's still wondering if five minutes have passed (and if the fight can get any louder), there's a hand on his shoulder, and he turns and sees Loki.

“Jesus-fuck! ...You did it.”

Loki's voice has a smirk in it: “No shit.” He takes Tony's arm. “Come. I remember where the containment cell is located.”

There's no remembering needed. You can hear Hulk roaring all over the heli-carrier. Tony heard him before he was even on board. He lets Loki drag him though, down narrow corridors and past the banks of keyboards and terminals in the main area. There, up ahead's the cell he remembers from when Loki was in there: He was just this little black-clad figure, sitting in one place and smirking at everyone, but Hulk's all over the place, and so big, Tony wonders how the cell can hold him. 

He's banging against the walls and shouting. – No, not shouting. He's _roaring_. There's no Bruce here, no human at all, that Tony can see. This Hulk is pure angry, crazy rage. He's pure monster... As soon as he thinks the word, his mind fights against it. This isn't a monster, this is his friend Bruce. Bruce has to still be in there ...somewhere.

“Bruce!” He calls the word as he comes closer. “It's me, Bruce, me and Loki.”

No sign of understanding. Hulk's over on their side of the cell right away, but he's roaring and banging his fists on the glass.

“Bruce!”

Unfocused words, incoherent words: “Puny men, puny cage! **HULK SMASH!** ”

“Jesus, Christ, Bruce!” Bruce? Is Bruce even in there right now? He swallows and looks over at Loki. “This is ...maybe going to be harder than we thought.”

Loki cocks an eyebrow. “You think?” Tony hears a click, and he's disengaged his face plate. “Fortunately, I understand 'monsters'.” He goes close to the cell, but not until the helmet's completely off, and it's just his face showing. “Bruce, it’s me. It's Loki.” 

“ **PUNY GOD!!!** ” The banging and the shouting start again. “ **HULK SMASH AGAIN!!!** ” Again, and again, Hulk throws himself at the glass. Tony knows it will hold, – Didn't he see it take a hit from Mjolnir the other time? – but he still can't hold back a surge of fear. _This_ Hulk, this one he doesn't want loose anywhere around him.

But Loki just stands there calmly. “You know who I am. Bruce.” His voice is calm, and his face shows... What it shows, looks like caring. Even after all they've been through together, that takes Tony by surprise: That the wily, conniving Loki, should care this much about Bruce, even when he's in Hulk form! “You know me, Bruce.”

He's not making any impression. The banging continues, and the roaring. How long have they got? How long will the holograms last without the suit there to make them? Tony edges over to the control panel. “Loki, we might have to let him out like this.” 

Let out the Hulk in the middle of the testing facility: That's just asking for trouble. Maybe if he and Loki both grab an arm they can get him airborne? Mentally, he calculates: How much thrust did he give the suits? And how much does a Hulk weigh? That's the variable he's lacking... From the damage his feet do when he comes down hard, there's got to be some serious weight to him. Maybe they can get him off the ground, but can they get him out of rifle-range? And can they go fast enough to outrun SHIELD when they come after him?

...He hears talking. He looks over. Hulk's still yelling and battering, and Loki is still talking to him. “You know me, Bruce. I am not threat, but a friend. We share a room together, remember? You taught me to squeeze the toothpaste from the bottom of the tube, and you laughed when I bought Tony his own tube, so he would stop squeezing ours from the middle.” 

A loud snort, that might be laughter comes from the Hulk. Maybe he finds that funny. “Puny god. – Puny metal-man.” He looks over Tony's way. “Metal-man let Hulk out. **LET HULK OUT!!!** ” He starts banging again.

“I'm going to have to let him out,” Tony tells Loki. “We don't have long. You want Ross to find him still locked up?”

Loki puts up a hand. “Stay just a moment longer.”

That's assuming they have longer. They don't. Tony's ready to push the button to open the cage whatever Loki says. His plans are based on when he used magic, not technology. But he holds back. Just a few more seconds.

“Remember the library, Bruce?” Loki looks back up, still talking to the big, green monster (that they're going to _need_ to release soon, there's just not going to be any other choice). “And the 'hard science fiction' you have taught me to enjoy? Remember the night we ordered pizza and you showed us your...” He looks down. “Behold, you wear them now: The undershorts with the Captain America shield.” 

Hulk looks down. It would be funny as hell, that big monster-head of his, suddenly angled downward so he can see his own undershorts, if they weren't risking capture more and more with each moment. “Flag-man shield on pants?”

“You explained to me about 'buying on clearance,' remember? And you showed me on the website... And we found the ones with the lighted arc reactor that were 50% off...”

“And...” It's Bruce's voice, weirdly coming from the big, green Hulk. Or ...Or not so big? Not so green?

_And I said there's no way in hell I'm letting anything that's glowing blue like that anywhere near my man-parts,_ is what Bruce is going to say, because that's what he said at the time. And then there was laughing. And then there was cuddling. And somewhere along the line his man-parts were pretty close to Tony's actual arc reactor, and he didn't seem to mind very much after all. No wait, maybe that was Tony's _mouth_ they were near. Good times...

Old home week dissolves as soon as it forms in his head, because the next thing Tony knows, there's a voice behind him. “Step away from the control panel, Stark.” There's a click. He turns, and he's looking down the barrel of General Ross's revolver.

“Hulk's a monster. He's a threat.” Generally you don't hear a tut-tutting voice like that coming from a guy who's waving a gun in your face. Let this be the one time, the exception-time. “You don't think he's going to make a distinction between you and anybody else, do you? Or are you thinking your suit will save you? You'll have to shoot him. At least if he's with me he lives. Step away...”

“Fuck that.” Fingers over to the panel. Tap-tap-tappity... He _designed_ the goddamn heli-carrier; he knows what buttons to push. “You want to keep him locked up; make weapons of him. He'd go crazy. – Bruce would go crazy.”

Ka-pow! A bullet hits right by his fingers.

“ _Seriously_. You're going to shoot the guy wearing bulletproof gauntlets?”

Whizz! That one goes right by his face. ...His face, that's currently uncovered. “JARVIS,” he begins...

Zing! The next one nearly hits.

“I meant to miss that time.” Ross's voice is shaking. “You think I can't hit you at this range? Gamma Initiative is key to our national security. I'm not letting a little hot-dog like you get in the way.”

Yeah, and he's not letting his big green friend rot in this asshole's holding cell. Tony turns. He throws up one hand to shield his face and uses the other to tap the keys that will open the holding cell door wide. Whatever's in there, it's out now, out to do whatever the hell _it_ wants to, on the world. And him and Loki? They'll be right behind him, to mop up the mess.

“Loki!” His face is still uncovered. Dimly, he realizes it as he turns, but it's too late to do anything about it now. “Loki, where are...”

There's Ross. His arm's up. “Stark, you don't know what you've done!” He's ready to shoot, but he stops, throws a quick look back over his shoulder. “If you've let him out... Ruined my plans...”

He'd fuckin' better have ruined his plans. That's kind of the whole idea here. Tony doesn't want to look at the cell himself. He wants to trust Loki to get Bruce the hell off the goddamn carrier and out of harm's way. But he can't help it. One quick look. Just his luck, he can't see a goddamn thing over goddamn Ross's goddamn shoulder. He engages the suit-to-suit communication. “Loki, your location?”

No answer. Loki's nowhere to be seen. Tony takes another look. This time he spots Bruce still in the holding cell. – And isn't that Loki in the shadows beyond him? Seriously, aren't they further away than this?

“ _Loki???_ ”

It's about this time that Ross lands on top of him, with both his hands out and scrabbling for the control panel.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE STARK?” Try keeping your balance when 250 pounds of General lands right on top of you. Tony topples. He's pressed against the panel, and on both sides of his shoulders, Ross's arms come around, his fingers going for the buttons that will close the containment cell again. “IF YOU'VE LET IT OUT!!!”

“I let it out, so screw it. – Screw you, General. – Bruce isn't an 'it', he's a 'he'.” All these random comments that come out without him thinking about it. Where's Ross's gun? He dropped it, didn't he? ...Oh yeah, that's right, he's got the repulsors. Ross's fingers hit a lot of buttons kind of randomly. Tony hears the whine of alarms: He's armed the security system again, hasn't he? Only without the carrier being ...you know, _secure_. The lights flash. Tony hears the engines growl. – Christ, Ross doesn't know this carrier for shit, does he? 

“Is this what you're trying to do?” One leetle blast from the repulsor in his left glove just to get Ross off him. Meanwhile, tap-tap-tappity with his right hand, and Tony's got the cell secured. Bruce is free. He'd fuckin' better be free. Loki's had enough time to get him free. ...If he isn't free, they're coming back in here with all weapons blazing. 

“Stark.” Ross stands up and brushes his jacket. He looks over at the cell and sees the Bruce-sized shape in there ( _Hologram_ , please Jesus, let it be a hologram!). After that, it looks like he breathes a little easier, as he re-sets that Dugout Doug MacArthur hat of his at its proper angle. “Attacking a US Army officer is a criminal offense. I am going to see you in court, and Nick Fury won't be able to protect you.”

“I didn't attack you, General. Besides, you've got your big, green monster.” Tony gestures. He sees... Oh fuck, he sees Bruce's image waver inside the cell. Mixed with his relief that at least Loki did get Bruce out, comes a panicky awareness that he has about zero seconds left to get away before Ross notices he's been lied to. “The Avengers is a SHIELD special force. Bruce is a member in good standing.” He shoots a look at the door. “You want a fight? I think I could take you.”

Please god, let the hologram hold... Ross throws another look, and apparently it's still good enough, because some more of the mean goes out of his eyes, and his chest starts to puff like a little ego-pigeon's. “This isn't over.”

Uh yeah, yeah it is. Tony gets while the getting is still good. Out of the room, quick look up and down the hallway. Through the suit-to-suit, he calls again: “Loki! Where the hell are you?”

“Emergency exit.” Loki sounds like he's out of breath. “Back of the heli-carrier. Get out. We're in the woods beyond it.” 

“Copy. And Bruce?”

No answer. He's at the exit by now, and he tumbles through, clumsy in his eagerness to get the hell out before Ross realizes he's been tricked. He's going to realize. The only question is, how long will it take? 

Thump, goes Tony Stark's ass in the dirt. Crackle-crackle, from the trees just past the tail of the carrier. “Someone out here?” comes a voice from somewhere toward the front.

“Bruce!” Tony takes off for the bushes, just as he sees a shiny, black-and-green figure come out. A regal, horned figure. Loki.

“I've got this.”

Something rampaging and green goes by just past Tony's right shoulder, so fast he dodges and almost falls over again. “Damn, I make good holograms!” 

Snooty little snort from Loki. “ _You_?” He gestures into the woods. “Bruce is there. Take him. I will meet you in the air shortly.”

_Leave him here_??? Hell no! You think Hulk's a good prize, he's nothing on Loki-the-War-Criminal. “One of us goes, all of us go.” Tony steps in front of Loki. “Like Lilo and Stitch: Ohana. Nobody gets left behind.”

All that gets him is a cool look of contempt, easy to read even through the Loki-suit's face-mask. “You are no strategist. Loki gestures again. “Take Bruce. Would you have him be captured?”

He sweeps past Tony, and into the melee of shouting voices near the front of the ship. “Hulk?” “He went that way!” “There go the others!” And from Ross: “Goddamn Tony Stark! Thinks his money can buy him out of anything.”

Bruce is just a couple steps into the woods, a skinny near-naked form. His pale skin is easily visible (not to mention the bright red-white-and-blue of his undershorts) against the tree trunks, but fortunately everyone's looking for a big, green monster. He looks like he's about to pass out. He usually sleeps after a Hulk-out, doesn't he? Isn't that what he said?

“I can't believe you guys did this for me!” 

Tony throws an arm around him. – Just to keep him from collapsing, you know. – He bends to brush a kiss... Oh yeah that's right, faceplate's in the way. “We'd better boogie,” he says. “Loki's only going to buy us a couple minutes' time.”

“Yeah.” Pale, naked-Bruce arms around his neck, pale Bruce-fingers interlaced right under his ear. Bruce's body cuddles close and all he wishes is that both of them were naked so he could enjoy it. _When we're out of this,_ he tells himself. _As soon as we're back home, safe._

Engage the jets, here they go. “This is where you say, 'up, up, and away', right?” Bruce says with a weak laugh.

He's shivering, and he feels kind of limp in his arms. Tony fights the urge to hug him really, really tight. Note to self: Being squeezed tight by shiny metal arms isn't romantic, it's just uncomfortable. “That's me” he says. “I'm Superman. Are you offering to dress up like Lois Lane for me?”

“Whatever.” Bruce shivers. He leans close. “Damn, this suit of yours is cold!” 

 

“It's not when you're wearing it.” Tony thinks guiltily of the t-shirt and jeans he's wearing himself. “Listen, you want to wear the suit and fly me home? We could set down somewhere and trade.” He looks down. Oh fuck, they're still in SHIELD-range. Better not take the chance.

“Who, me?” Bruce shakes his head so hard Tony can feel it through the suit. “I've never flown that thing. Besides, I'm kind of tired.”

Yeah. Other Guy takes a lot out of him.

“Loki's going to be catching up soon, right?”

He'd better be catching up, Tony thinks. Bruce feels about halfway to sleep already, even though he's currently butt-naked (almost), and on the run from a guy who just might try to shoot them out of the sky. The last thing he wants is to have to turn around, with sleepy-Bruce in his arms, and go grab Loki's skinny Asgardian ass out of trouble.

...He'll do it. No question about that. But he doesn't _want_ to. “Yeah,” he says. “Real soon.”

Bruce doesn't answer. He's asleep, Tony thinks. He concentrates on flying. Straight shot north out of goddamn Virginia. If Loki isn't here by the time he makes Richmond, he's going to have to go back. Is that... No, that's just a store of some kind. A Git-It-N-Go, or a 7-11.

Crackle of static on the communicator. It's Loki; it goddamn better be Loki. Tony slows a little.

Then sure enough, yeah (thank god) there's the Loki-suit coming up fast behind him. “You will drop Bruce.”

No he won't. “What the fuck took you so long, Loki?”

“Some SHIELD men saw you take off.” They're side-by-side now, Loki's voice coming in nice and clear. He sounds pleased, like somebody who just did a hard job, really, really well. “I gave them a few holograms to confuse them. Your 'mirror mode', by the way, proved quite effective.” 

Tony grins. “Yeah? Did it fool them?”

“I saw no one watch as I took off.” Loki's voice is dry. “All watched the holograms I created instead. Now is not the time to talk about this, Tony. Tighten your grip on Bruce or you will drop him. – Would you like me to hold him instead?”

Bruce, Tony notices, is completely asleep now. Who else could sleep, flying naked in 40-degree air, 1,000 feet above Northern Virginia? Loki's right, though. He adjusts his hold. Now he's got Bruce cradled in his arms like a baby, and looking weirdly adorable.

“Don't be ridiculous. I could go on like this forever.” He's not going to go on forever though. Tony picks up speed. “Last one to the Tower is a rotten egg.”

There, that's the state line. Good-bye Virginia, and hello Maryland. They're going to be back in New York just any time now ...relatively speaking. Loki's voice: “I see not what eggs have to do with it. Is Bruce...” Midair, his hand comes out, brushing the hair away from Bruce's pale, sleeping face. “Will he be all right?”

Tony ignores the twist in his chest that says he wants to hug both of them. Right now. Tight. Hugging your boyfriend 1,000 feet in the air above downtown Baltimore: Not a sensible course of action. “He'll be fine. You still think us mortals are that fragile? Maybe some hypothermia...”

“What's that?” Loki sounds worried.

“Means he's cold. Needs something to warm him up. Two warm bodies next to him in bed should do the trick.”

“Is that really the treatment?”

There goes the last of Baltimore. Here's another stretch of nothing, just trees and some mountainy-looking ground. What's up next? Jersey, right? “That and getting him home quick. Shut up and fly, Loki.”

Loki shuts up and flies.


	16. Life Goes On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wake up in the morning after destroying Penn Station, you think you might get to sleep in a little, right? Not so much really, not with Tony's expo still going on, and some other stuff as well.

When he wakes up, at first it feels just like always. There's an arm under his neck, that he knows is Loki's, because it's a little cold feeling. There's a head next to his chin, that he knows is Tony's, because his gelled hair tickles. The covers are all kicked down to the foot of the bed, except for one blanket that's gotten twisted around his right foot, pretty standard, since the nights have started getting warm. Bruce lies there like that for a while, just waking up.

Then his body starts to hurt. This is a body that _did stuff_ yesterday... – What was yesterday again? Then the memories start coming back. The surgery... Oh fuck, the surgery. Mr. Villa's dead... Goddamn bureaucrats, with their goddamn _rules_ , and every one of them is designed to make themselves as much money as possible, and screw anybody's life that gets in their way. But the goddamn business office was fucking closed, so he... Oh fuck.

_Explains why my arms hurt at any rate,_ he thinks, as vague mental pictures – _Hulk's_ pictures. – start coming back into his head. All those buildings, all those goddamn buildings. Whose idea was it to go find the business office for the insurance company and SMASH... Okay, that's right, it was Hulk's idea. Because Mrs. Villa was crying. And there were the kids in the other room, and they didn't even know yet that their Daddy was... _Time to start thinking about something else,_ he thinks as the SMASH feelings start coming back, and he hurries his mind past, trying to see what happened next.

What happened: Big buildings, _tall_ buildings... SMASHED buildings, but no mean insurance men coming out so Hulk could hurt them. MEAN INSURANCE MEN GO HOME FOR THE NIGHT. Then there's some other men there, men both he and Hulk remember all too well. They got him onto the heli-carrier. How did they get him on the heli-carrier? 

After that, there's glass. Glass, glass, and more glass. Glass that's in the way, glass that has to be SMASHED. ...Glass that won't break, KEEPS HULK IN. SHOWS BAD GENERAL, BUT HULK CAN'T GET HIM. Then, a long time after that, there's Loki. Loki, and something about toothpaste that he can't quite get, something that makes Hulk laugh. There's the echo of a question in his head: PUNY GOD BREAK IF HULK HUG HIM? After that, nothing.

And then there's a phone ringing. ...No wait, that's not a memory, that's happening now. Tony's phone... Tony's phone that he always leaves on the bedside table; is it there right now? Bruce reaches past Tony's head, getting a mutter and a smear of moisture from his lips. Yes, there it is. Who the hell is calling at this hour? Pepper? What the hell?

It dimly registers that _this hour_ is actually 9:54, as he thumbs the unlock and answers. “Ms. Potts? Sorry. We were asleep. Just a minute, I'll get Tony.”

“Bruce.” He can hear her leashing her impatience as she speaks. “You're home? That answers one of my questions anyway. I'm glad you're home. – Listen, I really need to talk to Tony. Or Loki? You guys do realize, the Expo opens in five minutes?”

“Bruce?” Tony's still out cold, but Loki's stirring. “Who are you talking to?”

“Pepper.” Bruce hands him the phone. “She wants to talk to you.”

“Wherefore?” It's his being half-god that does it, Bruce thinks, either that or the combat training he had back on Asgard. One minute Loki is blinking sleepy green eyes, the next, he's sitting up totally alert, sounding like an executive. “My Lady Potts, you call about the Expo, do you not?”

Vague noises from the other end. Meanwhile on the other side of Bruce, Tony is stirring. Solder-scarred arms reach out and pull Bruce down next to him. “It's Saturday. Come back to bed.”

Loki meanwhile, talking to Pepper: “Tony and I were called away yesterday. ...An emergency. – Oh, he is here with us now. He has recovered... No, I do not think there will be prosecution. We were given to understand... – Tony?” A shade of irritation in his voice. “He is awake, yes.” A pale hand shoves the phone in between Bruce and Tony. “She would speak to you, Tony. She will not take 'no' for an answer.”

It occurs to Bruce that his friends might be looking at some deep shit for helping him. Probably they are? He's not exactly sure. It's different from when Betty used to help him. Whatever happened, she knew her Daddy wasn't going to send her to jail. What about Tony? Could Ross get him sent to jail? And Loki: He's supposed to be on Earth doing good. But which side of the good vs bad continuum does rescuing trapped monsters fall on?

“No big deal, Pep.” Now it's Tony sitting up. Loki has slid back down in the bed, and leans on his elbows, glaring into the distance, as though it should have just taken his word for Pepper to back the hell off. Which probably is what he thinks. Gods and their sense of entitlement. “I'll call Fury,” Tony says. “We'll work this out. – Please, you know they don't want to arrest _me_.” Tony has a little bit of a sense of entitlement himself. – “Can you be a sweetheart and manage the Expo this morning? You're an angel babe. I'll get you whatever... What is it you like?” Random squawking from the other end of the phone. “I know, I know, I know. No strawberries, no stuffed rabbits. We'll take you out to dinner, how's that? Tomorrow, after the Expo closes. Just get us through today, okay?” Then he turns, grinning. “That woman is a saint.”

It's all very well to talk to Pepper, who's paid to clean up all Tony's messes. “Save your smiles until you talk to Director Fury.” Bruce climbs past Tony to get to the bathroom (earning a kiss and a couple of squeezes on the way). “Let me know what he says. I'll be in the shower.”

Loki meanwhile, heads for the kitchen. “I will prepare breakfast.”

Tony's dialing. “Fine, you do that. – Nothing Asgardian,” he tells Loki. – “Ah, hello, Nick? You heard, right?”

Heard that they got Bruce? That he's home, and Ross is... Probably on the warpath. Who's got more authority, Bruce wonders, him or Fury? Did he escape one cage yesterday, just to get put in another one today... NO CAGE, comes the howl at the back of his head, NO CAGE, NO CAGE, NOCAGENOCAGENOCAGE!!! Bruce tests the shower water: Not hot yet. And he needs the sound to block him from hearing whatever fate SHIELD's planned for him. He can go on the run again if he has to... He'd better not have to... NO RUN, NO RUN... He ducks into the shower fast; it's hot enough.

When he comes out, there's coffee, that smells better than anything Bruce has managed since he was here. And toast. He looks at Tony. “Should I eat this before you give me the bad news? How bad is it?”

“Bruce, relax.” For once, Tony sounds totally calm, totally serious. He pours a cup of coffee and shoves it in Bruce's hands. “Nothing's going to happen. Fury doesn't want you locked up. – _SHIELD_ doesn't want you locked up.”

The coffee's good, hot, and strong, and fragrant. Bruce drinks gratefully. “But Ross... The Gamma Initiative's top priority.”

“Ross can go fuck himself.” Tony allows himself a little grin. “Seriously, who wouldn't like to see that? He'd be all...” He mimes a body bending with one hand, thrusts a finger of the other hand in at an obscure angle. Then he sobers quickly. “No, I'm sorry. It's not the right time for joking. Gamma Initiative's on the down-low, Bruce . It's covert, all this super-hero shit is. We're the people that only get noticed when we succeed, and when we fail, it's like we don't exist. Ross failed.”

The coffee should be clearing clouds of sleep out of his brain, right? So why aren't things starting to make sense yet? “You're saying he's not after me any more? That's just stupid, Tony.”

“What can I say? I'm not the government.” Tony shrugs. “I talked to Fury. He said you don't have to worry about Ross. – His exact words: 'Dr. Banner doesn't have to worry.' I tried to push him, but you know how he gets. He's always hiding something.”

“Like Odin.” Loki looks at him through the steam from his own cup of coffee, his green eyes dark, his face disapproving. “Success is what matters, however it be obtained. We are the ones who were successful, Bruce; your foe General Ross is the one who failed.”

“I'm just extrapolating here. Fury said... – What was it he said? – ...He said, 'All the Avengers are ready for future assignments?' I said, 'yes sir.' He said, 'good.' He didn't say 'The Gamma Initiative's been disbanded and the President's kicked Ross to the curb,' if that's what you're hoping for. But he did say you don't have to worry.”

“There was some damage to the city.” Loki takes a slice of toast and bites, as cool as if he'd just said, “it's sunny outside.”

Bruce swallows. Damage? Pretty standard for the Other Guy. “In other words, I broke half of Brooklyn.”

“Manhattan, actually,” Tony says. “Don’t worry. Damage can be fixed.”

_Damage can be fixed._ Oh, that comes so easily from the Head of Stark Enterprises, the big celebrity-guy with the fancy suit and the entourage to do everything for him. “What the fuck's that supposed to mean?”

Tony looks at him. If the irritated tone bothers him, he doesn't show it. “It means what I said. There's damage, we fix it. I already talked to Steve and he says he'll help. He says maybe Hank Pym and... – What's her name? His girlfriend? – ...Maybe Janet as well. Reed can't, he's in Latveria doing something. ...Maybe Peter Parker.”

Loki smiles. “I will help also. I am well caught up with filing at the clinic, and can afford to take the time away.”

Reassuring smiles, reassuring words... Like they can wipe the whole thing away, with just a smile and a word or two. “What about the cost?” Bruce asks the question no one wants to talk about.

“I'll pay.” Tony's voice, the words very quiet. 

“No, Tony.”

“Dammit Bruce, I'll _pay_. Fuckin' pay me back if you have to, if your goddamn pride won't let you see... – If...” His voice falters. “Do you know how fuckin' scared I was when Ross had you? And it was just me and Loki, trying to get you out?”

Bruce stares into his cup. Everything inside him says, “Don't accept it, don't let yourself be obligated. Just walk away.” He thinks about walking away from Tony ...and Loki. He thinks about his independence, and how the world always felt like a howling wilderness of aloneness.

“Goddammit Bruce, we're family.”

_Family._ And the price of “family” is feeling obligated like this? He doesn't answer, just stares into his cup like he'll find the answer there.

“Pray accept this assistance, Bruce.” Loki's voice is sharp, worried-sounding. “Do not let pride stand in your way. Think what you will lose. – What we all will lose.”

Pride? “I've always been independent.”

“And I was always a god, with magic at my fingertips. And Tony...” Loki reaches across the table to touch the blue light of the arc reactor in his chest. “He was whole once.”

“I don't know what's going to happen if you don't let us help you,” Tony says. “SHIELD's not going to protect you. It's up to us...” He breaks off again, and he stares down at the table. He doesn't look at Bruce.

Calcutta's nice this time of year. They can always use another man at the bottling plant in Sao Paulo. Bruce thinks about leaving. – He'd have to leave, there's no way he's going to fix the destruction all by himself, much less pay for it. – He pictures the big bed in Tony's room, the one with the Bruce-sized dent in the center pillow. Just for a moment, he flashes on Tony's alarm clock, that wakes them with “Highway to Hell,” every single goddamn morning. He'll be glad not to have to hear that any more...

No he won't. “It's a loan, Tony.” His voice comes out hoarse, rough-sounding . “I don't care how long it takes, but I'll pay you back.”

“Then you accept? Jesus, Bruce, don't fuckin' scare a guy like that. If you leave...” There's roughness in Tony's voice too, more than enough to match the roughness in his own. “You do accept, right?”

“I accept.” Just like that, that's the end of independent-Bruce. He's not just himself any more, he's part of a... Part of whatever you get when you put a billionaire, a green monster, and a god-without-his-powers together. ...He's part of a family now. “Weirdest fucking family I ever saw,” he mutters.

“I know, right?” Tony grabs a slice of toast and starts chomping. “This toast's cold.” His voice sounds almost normal again. “Loki, make us more.”

“And I had my powers...”

“Oh yeah, that reminds me,” Tony says through cold toast. “Loki, Pepper says it would be a personal favor if we can make it to the Expo, at least for the afternoon. I kind of owe her...”

“Of course I will go.” Loki nods. “The suit, it will be the object of e'en more attention than it was yesterday.” He looks at Bruce. “And you will stay home and rest.”

His whole body is screaming with tiredness. He should stay home and sleep all day. Now that he's got a family though, Bruce doesn't want to leave them. “I’m going with you.” He smiles at Loki. “I want to find out what Manhattan does when they find out you're a hero now.”

Tony's voice: “You realize we can't say anything officially? What happened yesterday was strictly on the down-low.”

“Fine, I want to see what Manhattan does when they find out Loki's a down-low hero.”

_______________________

Manhattan has already found out. They get to the Expo, and immediately their limo is surrounded. Bodies press forward, cameras flash, a million microphones are shoved toward the car door. At first, Bruce can't even see Pepper, or the door to the convention center for that matter. Then he catches sight of Tony's friend Happy. He signals, and this cordon of Security men forms, and then there's Pepper coming to the car, looking classy as always.

“Tony, even for you, that was nuts.”

Tony's out of the car. He bends, brushes a kiss across her cheek. “Always love your warm welcomes...”

“Mr. Stark!” An arm reaches past the security guards; a mike, suddenly, is right by Tony's mouth. “Will you confirm that the Loki-Suit saw action yesterday?”

“I confirm nothing.” Tony steps onto the sidewalk.

Loki gets out, then Bruce. At once, the cordon bulges. Bruce sees guards that look like linebackers, getting pushed inward toward them by the press of bodies. 

“Loki, did you...” “Dr. Banner, is it true...” “Dr. Banner!” “Loki!”

Happy's elite security force is going to be crushed by these assholes in a minute. God knows what will happen to Pepper... “And I had my powers,” Bruce hears Loki mutter, and for once, he is in entire agreement.

“Yes.” He raises his voice, to be heard over the crowd. Does he sound gruff after all the yelling yesterday? Maybe a little _Hulkish_? Good. “It's true,” he says. “All of it: The suits, and the rescue, and my Other Side. He gets edgy when there's injustice. – He doesn't like crowds very much either.”

That part's totally true. He can hear the Other Guy inside right now, grunting and grumbling around about the people and all the noise. He'd come out right now, if Bruce let him. Maybe a little of that shows. Maybe he's a little _greener_ than he was, for a moment or two.

Anyway, the crowd backs up some and the security guards can stand up straight again. Pepper turns and looks at the reporters. “Stark Enterprises will have a statement for the press this afternoon.” She looks at Tony, Bruce and Loki. “Come on inside. I've ordered lunch. – It's backstage. I think we need to plan strategy before you're seen in public any more.”

Lunch is burgers. Big burgers. And fries, and some kind of salad with a lot of stuff besides lettuce in it. For all her businesslike facade, Pepper's a mother-hen, and she seems to understand that they're still recovering from what happened yesterday. They need food. She pulls them into an office, a little dusty from not being used much. Then pushes them toward the desk where the food's laid out. “Eat. We'll talk afterward.” None of them need much persuading (although Tony complains that there isn't any Diet Mountain Dew). 

Later on when they're feeling a little less hungry, Pepper's got them right where she wants them. She clears a place for herself among the wrappers and paper plates on the desk and she looks at them. “Tony, has it ever occurred to you that playing vigilante is _not_ the best way to solve everything?” 

Loki's green eyes darken. “We were not going to leave Bruce imprisoned.”

“There, see?” Pepper looks at Tony. “Now you've got him doing it...” She breaks off, as she realizes who she's talking about. “Okay, bad example.” She throws a look Bruce's way. “And Dr. Banner, you...”

“Also spend most of my time on the run, doing things the authorities don't like,” What can he say? It's the truth. “Sorry, Ms. Potts.”

“It's Pepper.” She looks at Tony. “I blame you for this.’ 

“Pep, the company's doing better than ever.” Tony's got a handful of chocolate chip cookies. He seems to be taking them apart and just eating all the chips out of them. “Green energy's the wave of the future, and meanwhile we've got the suits to provide publicity.”

“The suits, yeah.” She gives him a look. “What was the idea letting Loki take one into combat yesterday? You said he'd just be a model.”

“Would you have had me to stand by and watch my friend tortured?” Loki's sputtering-mad. “Have you heard about the things SHIELD has done to Bruce? – How they pursued him because they wanted his Other Side...”

He goes silent. None of the rest of them notice at first, and Tony's voice rings out: “Listen, Pep: Do you have any chocolate that doesn't have cookie wrapped around it anywhere? Also, who does a guy have to screw around here, to get a Diet Mountain Dew?” 

Pepper gives a sigh. “Tony...” She looks at Loki, apparently noticing his silence. “It's not anything against you. I believe people can change. But... Ah, Loki, what's the matter?”

“Listen.” 

In the silence Bruce hears raindrops patter against the window. Then a crack of thunder. What is it he's remembering? His mind flashes on Steve, saying, “afraid of a little thunder?” And then Loki says, “I don't like what comes next...”

“You know, not every thunderstorm means Thor's coming.” Tony's voice interrupts his thoughts.

“Not every...” 

Crackle and the smell of ozone, and Thor's standing in the middle of the room with his hammer still held straight up. Loki looks up at him from the desk. “Why hello, brother.” 

“Loki,” Thor says, “you are called by the All-Father. He wishes to see you, upon your immediate return.”


	17. Laufeyson is Confronted Twice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarce has he faced down the mortal "reporters" with their questions, but he must immediately return to Asgard, there to be questioned by All-Father. Loki takes his friends with him. He wants their company.

“Return?” The woman Pepper seems most surprised, by the Thunderer's arrival. “To ...Do you mean to Asgard?”

“ _Now_?” Tony looks up from the crumbs of cookie that he was still picking through. He looks less than impressive, and Loki cringes a little inside, uncaring though he is, about the reactions of the Aesir, to his new mortal comrades.

“All-Father may wait.” There is an empty chair in the office. Loki gestures toward it. “Be seated, Thunderer. I have business I must finish.”

“Why are you here, Thor?” Bruce looks at him. He takes off his glasses and polishes them in that way he has, that means he's thinking of what to say. “I mean we're glad to see you, but... Is this about Loki using the suit yesterday? Because that was my fault.”

“All-Father commands Loki’s return to Asgard...” Thor stops. He looks at Bruce. “You are right my friend, that is no answer. Father did not take me into counsel, as to why he would speak to my brother.”

“All-Father's ways are his own.” Loki feels bitterness bloom inside him. He has gone how many worlds away, he has soiled his hands with gross, mortal toil... He has rescued an innocent man from unjust imprisonment, and used the power of violence only for good, and to what end? In the eyes of Odin, he is still merely a subject, a pawn to be summoned at his convenience.

“Hugin and Mugin brought word of your doings in this realm.” Thor sits. He takes Loki's hands in both his big warm ones. – Loki pulls them away again. – 

“Hugin and _Mugin_?” Tony sounds confused. 

“All-Father's ravens,” Loki says. “His favored messengers, now that your world has industrialized, and his wolves would seem out of place. Of course, Odin has used them to learn of my doings.” Just for a moment, he allows himself to wonder what All-Father has learned: Did he hear of the many days Loki has spent in willing toil, serving out the terms of his punishment? Of how he has resisted the temptation to use Tony's suit for selfish ends? No doubt, all he cared about was the lawlessness of yesterday's rescue. He wants not to hear good of Laufeyson. He looks back at Thor. “You will tell Odin I cannot leave right now. I have obligations...”

“Listen Thor, your brother's busy.” Tony's hand on his arm is unexpected. Almost, Loki shakes it off, before he realizes who is touching him. Then his spirit lifts a little. It is good to remember he has friends here. “I don't know if Heckle and Jeckle told your dad about what he did yesterday. He saved Bruce practically single-handedly if you didn't know.”

Bruce steps close to him on the other side. He is surrounded by friends now. It is a good feeling, and unexpected. “We promised Pepper we'd talk to the press.”

“Press?” Thor looks questioning.

“Earth-reporters. People who want to know about Tony's tech, and why Loki was using it.”

“I won't keep him long.” Now, weirdly, the woman Pepper intervenes on his behalf as well. “Ten minutes, fifteen at the most.”

“It is best not to keep Father waiting.” Thor stops. He looks at the three of them, Loki, Bruce and Tony, and at the woman Pepper, who stands with them. “Father can wait.” His face is a study, fondness and concern mixed. Well he knows the penalty for disregarding Odin's commands. “I will take responsibility for the delay.” 

The _delay_ proves not to be a long one. Loki and Tony return to the stage where they presented the suits, just the day before. The woman Pepper introduces them.

“This will have to be a short conference. You have ten minutes. Loki and Tony will choose which questions they will answer.”

In practice, this means Tony chooses. What knoweth Laufeyson of mortal “reporters”? He squints past the lights of the stage, points to a woman with cameras behind her. “CNN, right? You can go first.”

“There were reported sightings of the Iron Man suit over northern Virginia yesterday afternoon. Mr. Stark, will you confirm you were in the area?”

“I was in the area.” More hands wave. “Yes, I was with Loki. Yes, I let _him_ use _my_ technology. – Tell me, did you hear about any violence?” 

They will have done, Loki thinks. Ross, who fought so hard to hold Bruce, will have told the tale of his rescue, and in such a way as to slander him and Tony. Well he knows how to craft phrases in this way. It is a strategy he has used himself, a way to turn defeat into victory.

“No, Mr. Stark, you know we haven't.” The woman named CNN's response surprises him. “SHIELD hasn't said anything, not about the Hulk attacking Penn Station, or about the Iron Man suits and why they were in Virginia.”

Silence? It is not the move that Loki was expecting. Some of his tension drains away. He smiles a little, as Tony's conversation with the reporters continues.

“You're our friend,” says a man at the back. “Fill us in. Don't keep us in the dark.”

“You want us to tell the truth about you? – About SHIELD?” the one called CNN says. “Give us the truth, Mr. Stark.”

They speak of “truth”, but what they want is a story, a way to understand the fragments of what they know about the past day's events. They want someone to tell them what to believe. Truly, Loki thinks, these mortals are very little different from the people of Asgard. He steps forward, the glare of the stage lights hitting his eyes.

“I am Loki of Asgard. I came to your realm as would-be conqueror, but I have learned since then, to view myself differently. I have found another role that suits me better, as friend to the mortals, Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. I would tell you what took place. – Tell me, mortals, will you believe me?”

Confused murmuring. “Loki,” he hears, and, “war-criminal,” and “killer.” But not “liar,” not “trickster,” or “silvertongue.” His reputation unknown here; he can speak and be trusted.

“The creature who is called Hulk, is our friend, Bruce Banner. He is a hero, who sought knowledge for the good of your people, and was injured, and his Other Self unleashed in the seeking of it. He caused great damage to your city yesterday, it is true, but he has also served selflessly for many months, after I unleashed the Chitauri here. He has taught me to put my energy toward repairing harm rather than causing it, as he does himself. I, with my friend Steven Rogers, will be responsible for the damages the Hulk caused yesterday.”

Again there is murmuring. “What did he say?” “He's going to fix what?” “ _Loki's_ going to _fix_... – What _Hulk_ caused?”

“So are you going to use that alien gizmo of yours?” A man at the back of the room, “Fox” inscribed on his camera, shouts to be heard. “That sceptre-thing? Can it do other things besides mind-control?”

“Are you going to use the Tesseract?” the woman named CNN asks him. “Or the suit Tony Stark made you?”

Loki raises his hands. He shows them to the crowd, palms up. “I will use these: My bare hands.” The crowd buzzes, murmuring rapidly becoming talking, and the talking, becoming louder and louder. He has to raise his voice now, to be heard. “I have no weapons. The sceptre has been destroyed; the Tesseract is in the treasure vault of All-Father Odin. Tony's suit... It is a weapon as well, designed for destruction rather than repair. I have learned, in my time here, to prefer _repairing_ damage over causing it.”

“He says...” “Repair...” “I call bullshit.” The voices of the reporters are loud and, as always, the voices of the hateful, the doubtful, are the loudest. Loki feels irritation crawl. He had thought himself done, humbling himself and protesting his good inclinations. He had thought a year, almost, spent here, and doing whatever menial work was given him, would be enough to show his good intentions. Is he to be forced back into the role of the Trickster again?

“I will do whatever I can.” His voice is hoarse, roughened by the frustration he feels. “I would see your realm flourish...”

“Our realm, which is also Loki's now.” Tony steps forward. Loki feels the comfortable weight of his hand on his shoulder. “SHIELD trusts Loki, and I trust him.”

The woman Pepper steps forward as well. He is flanked by both of them now. “Stark Enterprises trusts him. We never had any doubts, while the suits were in action yesterday, that they were being used for good purposes.”

The crowd murmurs again, but the animosity has left their voices. Once, Loki would have mocked the puny mortals for being so gullible, now... Now he has learned the fragility of trust, willingly given. Beside him, Tony nods agreement. On his other side, he sees the woman Pepper glance at her watch. She looks at Tony.

“Thank you for your attention,” he says. “We're going to have to draw this to a close. We've got a lot of work to be done... I understand Loki and I have a trip to Asgard ahead of us.”

“Asgard?!?” The crowd says it as one voice. Then immediately, begin the cries of, “Mr. Stark, Mr. Stark,” and, “Loki, Loki!”

Pepper throws Tony an evil glare. “You _had_ to mention Asgard.” 

“Get back out there.” Tony makes shooing motions toward the stage. “Our friends the reporters have questions.”

“Which I can't answer. Tony, someday I'm really going to kill you.”

“It's called publicity, baby. Watch what it does to our stock prices.” Tony's voice is sweet and innocent. He cuts a glance to Bruce. “You ready? I hear Asgard's great, this time of year.”

“Asgard? You?” The Thunderer, standing with Bruce just offstage, seems surprised at Tony's words. “Friend Tony, Father summoned my brother, he did not summon you.” He looks from him to Bruce, and then he looks at Loki. “How comes it brother, that you came here as a conqueror, and now these mortals call you 'friend'?”

How comes it, Loki thinks? How can he even begin to explain? He looks at Tony, then at Bruce. Once indeed, he came meaning to destroy these men, that they would not stand in the way of his conquest. He made his words intentionally cutting, chose actions that would do the most harm. It confounds him yet, that Bruce and Tony would be willing to forgive, and would take him even, as their friends.

“We think of mortals as smaller than ourselves, brother.” Loki speaks, low-voiced. “And yet their hearts are large. I feel only gratitude at having been given their forgiveness.”

Thor looks at him. He looks at Bruce and Tony, now flanking him on either side. There is something in his eyes, Loki thinks. He recognizes that there is more between them than simple friendship. “They are your family now, aren't they?” There is something in his voice... Is that a roughness, he hears? “And Midgard, it is your home?”

_Yes!_ Loki craves to shout it, to taunt the Thunderer with this new fact, that Laufeyson now has a home. – His own home, and not one granted on mere sufferance from All-Father. He wants to brag, to humiliate Thor with the fact that there are those who would welcome Loki, not to dictate to him, as was always his wont. But to do that would sully the relationship he shares with his friends.

Loki bows his head. “It is my home,” he says, “and Bruce and Tony are my family.”

Does he see tears sparkling in the Thunderer's blue eyes? Does he see his face change, sorrow starting there perhaps? “I had thought I would be bringing you home, to our home...” –

_Our home?_ Loki fights back the urge to shout. _Fool, there was never a home for the Sly One in Asgard. I was never more than a possession there, and a devalued one, finally, at that._ \--

He remains silent though. And Thor swallows, and the wetness disappears from his blue eyes. He puts out his hand and takes, first Tony's and then Bruce's. “Mother will be happy to welcome you as Loki's family, my friends. She loves – _We_ love... – Loki very much.”

_He doesn't..._ Loki swallows. The love is there, it is evident on Thor's face. What is reality here, and what is just thoughts, just stories? What relationship is there, between him and Thor? – What relationship does he want there to be, between them?

Tony doesn't wait for him to speak. “Of course you do.” 

“Sure,” Bruce says. “He's got a temper on him, but there's a lot to love.”

“The Bifrost has been restored.” Thor looks at Bruce, at Tony, at Loki. “I can bring all of you. Father will...” His face clouds for a moment. “He will understand, as long as his audience with my brother is private.”

An audience with Odin... A _private_ audience with Odin. Dimly Loki hears preparations being made around him. He hears Tony ask if they'll need to pack anything, he hears Thor tell him that their mother will be happy to provide whatever they'll need. He hears him speak of introducing Bruce and Tony to his loutish friends, the Warriors Three. It scarce registers; his mind is on the upcoming audience.

They have not spoken together since he asked about his parentage... – Since he found out the truth behind Odin's lies, found it out himself, and not through any assistance or any honesty. He thinks about how the old man stood there while he shouted at him: “I am a monster? ...A monster that you tell your children about?” What did Odin say back? He said nothing; that was when he fell into the Odinsleep. But what was he thinking? What is Loki, to this old man who is not his father?

Another picture flashes into his mind, his return to Asgard, after the failed invasion: He sees Odin's face. What was there? He couldn't read it, he remembers. There was nothing, no emotion. – No anger, as he'd shown after Thor invaded Jotunheimr, no... No anything. Because he, Loki, was nothing to the old man, wasn't that it? He was nothing but a captive, a prize to be hidden away until it became useful. Wherefore does Odin wish audience with him now? Why must he return to Asgard, when he finally has a place of his own? 

“Brother, it is time to go.” Thor's voice startles him, and he realizes he has been standing silent. He feels a hand on his shoulder, Thor's hand. “Loki...”

As he turns, he sees something that looks like happiness, warming the Thunderer's face. It disappears though, and quickly, as Thor catches sight of his gaze.

“I am not your brother.” The words feel stale and meaningless. They come from a reality that is past, and far, and long, long gone, but he knows not what words to use in their stead. Uncomfortable, he looks at his friends. They stand, grouped close together with him and Thor. Bruce looks awkward and a little bit troubled; Tony's expression is the smile he wears that hides his feelings, when he is doing company business. 

“Where did you go, Reindeer Games?” He touches Loki's shoulder. “You looked like you were facing your worst nightmare, there for a minute.”

He was, Loki thinks. He opens his lips, but no words come out.

“Only way to do this, is to do it.” Bruce touches him from the other side. “We'll be there with you. Remember, we're all going to go home together after you're done.”

“That is assuming Father allows my brother to return to your world.” 

Bruce turns on Thor as he says it. “He'd goddamn better allow it. It's not his choice to make, he'd better not think it is.”

“Odin will do what Odin will do.” Loki swallows. He looks at Bruce and Tony, thinks about what they mean to him, which is suddenly so much more real, now that his other, past life has returned to intrude upon this one. “Let us go. Thank you for going with me, my friends.” 

Thor calls for Heimdall to open the Bifröst. Loki catches a glimpse of the Gatekeeper. -- It is the first time he's seen him since he was King, for Heimdall had no part to play, when he and Thor returned to Asgard by the Tesseract's power. -- He thinks he sees suspicion in his brown eyes. Then they are past him, and entering the gates of the city.

_______________________

Asgard glitters, unchanged in the time that he’s been gone, as it has been unchanged ever since Loki can remember. The light is brilliant, the walls high, the space claustrophobic. There was never anyplace to get away, in this city, he remembers. There were places where a Trickster could hide though, and he knew all of them. He sees the entrances to a few, flash by as they proceed down the main street, toward the palace. He wonders, in passing, if they have all been found out. With the wondering, the feeling of suspicion that used to be with him, all the time, returns too. How much easier it is, to live in Midgard, to be but one person among many, and free, than to be tortured with the illusion that power, that glory, could ever belong to the likes of him, as he was here!

“This is Asgard.” Tony cannot be quiet. The ability is not in him.

Bruce chuckles. “Captain Obvious.” He looks over at Loki, his gaze catching the silver bands that encircle his wrists. “Look on the bright side: Maybe your dad's decided it's time to remove those.”

“The bracelets?” Loki sees Thor's face grow uncomfortable. “There are many here who still carry suspicion of my brother.” 

Ahead of them, the palace looms. They draw near, and the doors open wide, guards saluting smartly, the approach of their Prince and Heir to Odin's Throne. The Thunderer moves as he has always moved, as if this is his by right. Behind him, Loki feels again the crawl of envy, that he thought he had left behind when he found his own place in Midgard. 

A woman rushes forward... Not a woman. Mother. Before he can decide how he will respond to her, she is there, and her arms are around his neck.

“My son,” she says, “It has been too, too long.” 

Loki feels hot, unshed tears fill his eyes. Her hold feels good. It feels _right_. This woman is not his mother, not by birth or by heritage, and yet ...and yet she is. Just as Tony and Bruce, who are mere weak mortals, are his family now, and beloved. How much, it occurs to him, do accidents of birth really matter? In the end, does one not really make one's own family?

His own hands come up, and he clasps her tight. “Mother,” he whispers. “Oh Mother, I've come home.”

“I missed you so much.” Frigga leans back, her hands resting on his shoulders, her warm gaze looking him up and down. “You have been well, son? Your friends have taken care of you?”

The scrutiny is familiar. Just so would Mother study him when he returned from a day's adventures as a child. Nothing ever escaped her, he remembers, not the bruises and buffets he received scuffling with Thor on the practice field, not the small deceptions he practiced, when he was just learning what it was to be the Sly One. He feels himself relax. It is a good, safe feeling, to be studied so by his mother and, for once, he feels he can stand before her without shame. He smiles. “They have taken better care of me than I deserve. They are good men, Mother.”

Frigga returns his smile. “I am glad you have such friends in your life now, son. Won’t you introduce me to them?”

Loki gestures to Bruce and Tony. He would happily show them to his mother. He wants her to know the goodness and the courage of these mortals who have taken him into their lives, and, in turn, he wants them to know the strength, and love of his mother. “Mother, this is Tony Stark.” He takes Tony's hand, pulling him forward. “In Midgard, he is a creator, a man who wields metal and flame, to create devices that will make lives better.” Now he takes Bruce's hand. “And this is Bruce Banner. He is what the Midgardians call a 'scientist', a man who challenges the edge of knowledge to bring back knowledge and new discoveries for his people.”

“Rather like yourself, Loki.” His mother smiles. “Well I remember the nights when I'd find your bed empty, and you still in the library, asleep over some volume as big as yourself.” She extends her hand, first to Tony, then to Bruce. “Indeed, both your friends share much with you, do they not? Both are men of the mind, and neither is content with the world as it is, until they have put their stamp upon it.” 

She looks around, meeting eyes with each of them in turn. “I am happy to see that Loki has found such good friends. I will make sure that guest rooms are prepared for you. Unless...” She looks at Loki again. “Would you and your friends be happier sharing the same room, son?”

Beside him, Loki hears a choking sound, that is Bruce's reaction. In truth, the directness of the question embarrasses him as well. His mother comes originally from Vanaheimr though; the Vanir have always been more open with the practice of physical love than the Aesir. “Thank you, Mother. I would...” He swallows. “That is to say, we would...” 

“What you said, Your Highness.” Tony sounds embarrassed too, but he is not one to be ever at a loss for words. “The second one. Congratulations, you're the only person I ever saw who could reduce Loki to silence.”

His mother laughs. Incredibly, she seems to be flirting with Tony just as women do in Midgard. “Remember, Son Tony... – May I call you so?”

A nod from Tony. –

“Remember, I have had much practice. But my friends, I am afraid I must take my leave of you. Loki, your father would see you at once. I hope that, after your audience with him, you will bring your friends to my chambers that we may get to know each other better?”

He would respond with words, but for once the Silvertongue has no words. He can but nod in silence. He will visit her and willingly, after this audience, and he will bring Bruce and Tony. It is something to look forward to, after his meeting with the man who called himself “Father”. ...With the man who stirs so many feelings inside him. 

“We shouldn’t keep Father waiting.” Thor mumbles it awkwardly. He seems uncomfortable, interrupting their time together. “He will be expecting to see you, brother. ...And alone.”

“ _Father_.” The biting words spring to his lips unbidden. “Odin is not _my_ father, Odinson. He is nothing to me.” Nonetheless, he follows as Thor leads. He leaves Tony and Bruce alone, and goes down the hallway that leads to the Grand Throne Room, and All-Father's presence.

With every step he takes, his heart weighs heavier inside him. Walking behind Thor, his red cloak brushing his ankles as it flies backward, Loki wills his mind blank. He stares forward, tries to keep away from the thought of Odin. That cloak: It is very red, and yet, the color changes, depending on how the light hits it. Is it really so red, then? And what is redness, really? – What is _color_ for that matter, that can change, depending on how one sees it?

...And what is love? ...Family? ...Fatherhood? ...Odin. His wrists feel weighted down by the burden of the bracelets he has worn for so long. – The bracelets that he'd almost forgotten to notice, while he was in Midgard. Now they are iron shackles, imprisoning his true nature. He touches them. He sees again the judgment on the old man's face as he sentenced them to be put on. ... _Odin_. 

There's the Throne Room up there. The doors open. Thor gives a sharp turn and enters. Loki follows. He's dressed... – How is he dressed? The shirt with “Chaotic Evil” on it, that Tony thought so funny when he gave it to him. The pants... Long, form-fitting Midgardian “jeans”... They have holes, from when he got too close to Tony's welding torch, and the sparks hit them. Why could he not have chosen clothing of more dignity? But he did not know then, that he would be facing All-Father today.

Up ahead, there is a voice. Odin's voice: “My son.” How easily, do the old man's words reach the far corners of the room. “Come closer, my son.” Odin speaks with the authority of one born to rule. _As he was,_ Loki thinks, and he feels a crawl of bitterness inside him.

Thor is next to him. Then he is beside him. Then he gives him a push. “Go ahead,” he says. “Father would talk to you.”

“No.” The words are there, but he cannot speak them. “Who is he, that I should submit to him? He is not my Father, he is not my king. – He is nothing to me!” The words are there. They tremble on his lips. All the time, he is walking forward. He is walking. – Why can he not stop himself from walking? – And he is there, standing in front of Odin, All-Father. Loki straightens his shoulders and lifts his head high. He will not allow himself to kneel.

“My son, I have watched your actions since you have been in Midgard.” The old man rises. He comes down from his high throne, to stand side by side, with him. 

“Hugin and Mugin?” Loki wills complete indifference into his voice. He will not give this man the satisfaction of knowing he affects him. “They are good eavesdroppers.”

Odin nods. “They have done their duty. I call it not eavesdropping, to keep track of one who is serving a punishment though, my son. I needed to know when your obligation was completed.”

“My obligation...” He echoes the words, scarce aware he is doing it. His hands, his traitorous hands, go to the bracelets at his wrists, and he touches them, sliding them as he has so often done, up and down his arms.

“You have submitted to the authority of those put in charge of you. You have set your hand willingly, to the task of repairing what you yourself destroyed. You have turned away from an opportunity to destroy and to dominate...”

He is going to remove the seal, Loki realizes. The bracelets, so long hated, are going to be removed. Why then, does he feel no exaltation, but only the same dull thud of bitterness?

“…and you found a way to save one of your friends, out of love, and with no thought for yourself. You have indeed acted, my son, as a true Odinson.”

“Like a what?” Disorienting, the jumble of reactions that go through his head. “I will never be an Odinson,” he opens his mouth to say. Then, his mouth open, it hangs there; he gapes, as he sees Odin's bracelets disappear. One moment they are there, the next, they are gone... Simply gone... How is it that this bit of magic so discomposes him, who thought himself a master of magic?

Loki raises his arms. He can feel the power already. It tingles, blood returning to limbs too long immobilized. He can... What can he do? ...What _can't_ he do? 

Next to him, Odin smiles. “The bracelets' effect will be gone soon. Your magic will return to its normal levels. You deserve it son, you did well.”

“Son...” His lips are stiff. This whole fight about _who_ he is, about _what_ he is to All-Father still seems distant and far-away. He runs his hands up and down his wrists. The bracelets aren't there. They _aren't there_. His breath shudders in his throat, excitement warring with trepidation, and only very far away and behind it all, the old bitterness he's held for so long.

But it is this that comes out when he speaks. “You call me 'son'. Why? With Laufey dead, and at my hand, I cannot possibly still be of use to you. The Frost Giants will never trust me again. How do you expect to use me, old man?”

There is silence. – There is silence and, in the silence, he feels the magic flowing through his body, stronger now. He could vanish from here... He could... He could destroy something, and he wished to do it. – Loki begins to think the audience done. 

Then just as he readies himself to be dismissed from Odin's presence, the old man speaks. “That has weighted on you, hasn't it, son? If you knew,” he says.... “If words could tell, son, how sorry I felt that the Odinsleep should have come on me before I could say more...”

Sorry? His words make no sense. What is this, is it pity? Does the old man dare _pity_ him? “Save your words,” Loki mumbles. “What sort of pathetic weakling do you think me? Do you pretend your phrasing mattered more than the intent? You showed your intent well enough, didn't you? The throne was for your son. And what for me? I was to have brokered an alliance, and when there was no more hope of that, I could be discarded.”

“Nothing of the kind!” The old man sounds angry. He turns, brows drawn. It has taken all of five minutes for Laufeyson to anger him. “Son, adults _listen_. Are you still too much of a child...” He stops. Loki hears him draw a breath. “You have always been a mystery to me, son. I could see Thor's future well enough, it is true. He is the very pattern of a future King of Asgard, and has been since boyhood. With you though, it was different. I saw...”

He saw... In spite of himself, Loki feels excitement surge. “What did you see?”

Odin shakes his head, half turns away. “As to that, I know not. – I never knew.” Again, more silence. – Finally, “I saw greatness in you, son,” he says. “Great power, and great love ...and great danger too. There is much that is contained within you, son, but it is mixed, complicated. You are not the simple being that Thor is.”

“I am a Monster.” The words feel wrong now, but it is a subtle wrong, and he has no other words yet, to use. 

“You are more than your heritage, son.” Odin speaks as though he has not heard him. “Long have I thought about this, for I have had long to think about it, since you have been away from us. You are all that has gone together to make you. There is in you, the chaos of the Jotnar... – There is also the courage of the Aesir and the magic of the Vanir, a gift from your mother's people. Now...” He looks full at Loki. “Now too, I can see the simple loyalty that you have learned in Midgard. That too is part of what you are, son.”

It says everything, and it says nothing. The words are crowded dense with meaning, and they are meaningless. “Father...” In his confusion, he calls Odin the one word he swore he'd not use again. 

“Do I confuse you, son?” The old man laughs softly. “I will remember this moment. It is an achievement to confuse the God of Chaos.”

He confuses him only because his words make no sense. Loki thinks it, but he says nothing. He is beginning to look the fool in this exchange, and he would end it with his dignity intact.

“I would appreciate it if you dined with your family tonight, son, you and your friends.” There is something that sounds almost like appeal in Odin's voice. “But if you wish to eat in your quarters, I will understand.”

“I…” Loki swallows. His hands, he notices, are still on his wrists, so newly bared of the bracelets that sealed his magic. His heart... But what is in his heart? “I must think,” he says at last. “Pray allow me to leave you.”

“Of course.” Odin nods. If he is disappointed, Loki does not want to know it, and the old man's expression is smooth enough that he does not have to. He gestures, and the guards open the doors for Loki's departure. “You may return to your friends.”


	18. All-Father's Immense Generosity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki's powers are his again. He has rightfully earned this, and he is not surprised at their return. What surprises him, is the manner in which Odin returns them.

Asgard glitters, unchanged in the time that he’s been gone, as it has been unchanged ever since Loki can remember. The light is brilliant, the walls high, the space claustrophobic. There was never anyplace to get away, in this city, he remembers. There were places where a Trickster could hide though, and he knew all of them. He sees the entrances to a few, flash by as they proceed down the main street, toward the palace. He wonders, in passing, if they have all been found out. With the wondering, the feeling of suspicion that used to be with him, all the time, returns too. How much easier it is, to live in Midgard, to be but one person among many, and free, than to be tortured with the illusion that power, that glory, could ever belong to the likes of him, as he was here!

“This is Asgard.” Tony cannot be quiet. The ability is not in him.

Bruce chuckles. “Captain Obvious.” He looks over at Loki, his gaze catching the silver bands that encircle his wrists. “Look on the bright side: Maybe your dad's decided it's time to remove those.”

“The bracelets?” Loki sees Thor's face grow uncomfortable. “There are many here who still carry suspicion of my brother.” 

Ahead of them, the palace looms. They draw near, and the doors open wide, guards saluting smartly, the approach of their Prince and Heir to Odin's Throne. The Thunderer moves as he has always moved, as if this is his by right. Behind him, Loki feels again the crawl of envy, that he thought he had left behind when he found his own place in Midgard. 

A woman rushes forward... Not a woman. Mother. Before he can decide how he will respond to her, she is there, and her arms are around his neck.

“My son,” she says, “It has been too, too long.” 

Loki feels hot, unshed tears fill his eyes. Her hold feels good. It feels _right_. This woman is not his mother, not by birth or by heritage, and yet ...and yet she is. Just as Tony and Bruce, who are mere weak mortals, are his family now, and beloved. How much, it occurs to him, do accidents of birth really matter? In the end, does one not really make one's own family?

His own hands come up, and he clasps her tight. “Mother,” he whispers. “Oh Mother, I've come home.”

“I missed you so much.” Frigga leans back, her hands resting on his shoulders, her warm gaze looking him up and down. “You have been well, son? Your friends have taken care of you?”

The scrutiny is familiar. Just so would Mother study him when he returned from a day's adventures as a child. Nothing ever escaped her, he remembers, not the bruises and buffets he received scuffling with Thor on the practice field, not the small deceptions he practiced, when he was just learning what it was to be the Sly One. He feels himself relax. It is a good, safe feeling, to be studied so by his mother and, for once, he feels he can stand before her without shame. He smiles. “They have taken better care of me than I deserve. They are good men, Mother.”

Frigga returns his smile. “I am glad you have such friends in your life now, son. Won’t you introduce me to them?”

Loki gestures to Bruce and Tony. He would happily show them to his mother. He wants her to know the goodness and the courage of these mortals who have taken him into their lives, and, in turn, he wants them to know the strength, and love of his mother. “Mother, this is Tony Stark.” He takes Tony's hand, pulling him forward. “In Midgard, he is a creator, a man who wields metal and flame, to create devices that will make lives better.” Now he takes Bruce's hand. “And this is Bruce Banner. He is what the Midgardians call a 'scientist', a man who challenges the edge of knowledge to bring back knowledge and new discoveries for his people.”

“Rather like yourself, Loki.” His mother smiles. “Well I remember the nights when I'd find your bed empty, and you still in the library, asleep over some volume as big as yourself.” She extends her hand, first to Tony, then to Bruce. “Indeed, both your friends share much with you, do they not? Both are men of the mind, and neither is content with the world as it is, until they have put their stamp upon it.” 

She looks around, meeting eyes with each of them in turn. “I am happy to see that Loki has found such good friends. I will make sure that guest rooms are prepared for you. Unless...” She looks at Loki again. “Would you and your friends be happier sharing the same room, son?”

Beside him, Loki hears a choking sound, that is Bruce's reaction. In truth, the directness of the question embarrasses him as well. His mother comes originally from Vanaheimr though; the Vanir have always been more open with the practice of physical love than the Aesir. “Thank you, Mother. I would...” He swallows. “That is to say, we would...” 

“What you said, Your Highness.” Tony sounds embarrassed too, but he is not one to be ever at a loss for words. “The second one. Congratulations, you're the only person I ever saw who could reduce Loki to silence.”

His mother laughs. Incredibly, she seems to be flirting with Tony just as women do in Midgard. “Remember, Son Tony... – May I call you so?”

A nod from Tony. –

“Remember, I have had much practice. But my friends, I am afraid I must take my leave of you. Loki, your father would see you at once. I hope that, after your audience with him, you will bring your friends to my chambers that we may get to know each other better?”

He would respond with words, but for once the Silvertongue has no words. He can but nod in silence. He will visit her and willingly, after this audience, and he will bring Bruce and Tony. It is something to look forward to, after his meeting with the man who called himself “Father”. ...With the man who stirs so many feelings inside him. 

“We shouldn’t keep Father waiting.” Thor mumbles it awkwardly. He seems uncomfortable, interrupting their time together. “He will be expecting to see you, brother. ...And alone.”

“ _Father_.” The biting words spring to his lips unbidden. “Odin is not _my_ father, Odinson. He is nothing to me.” Nonetheless, he follows as Thor leads. He leaves Tony and Bruce alone, and goes down the hallway that leads to the Grand Throne Room, and All-Father's presence.

With every step he takes, his heart weighs heavier inside him. Walking behind Thor, his red cloak brushing his ankles as it flies backward, Loki wills his mind blank. He stares forward, tries to keep away from the thought of Odin. That cloak: It is very red, and yet, the color changes, depending on how the light hits it. Is it really so red, then? And what is redness, really? – What is _color_ for that matter, that can change, depending on how one sees it?

...And what is love? ...Family? ...Fatherhood? ...Odin. His wrists feel weighted down by the burden of the bracelets he has worn for so long. – The bracelets that he'd almost forgotten to notice, while he was in Midgard. Now they are iron shackles, imprisoning his true nature. He touches them. He sees again the judgment on the old man's face as he sentenced them to be put on. ... _Odin_. 

There's the Throne Room up there. The doors open. Thor gives a sharp turn and enters. Loki follows. He's dressed... – How is he dressed? The shirt with “Chaotic Evil” on it, that Tony thought so funny when he gave it to him. The pants... Long, form-fitting Midgardian “jeans”... They have holes, from when he got too close to Tony's welding torch, and the sparks hit them. Why could he not have chosen clothing of more dignity? But he did not know then, that he would be facing All-Father today.

Up ahead, there is a voice. Odin's voice: “My son.” How easily, do the old man's words reach the far corners of the room. “Come closer, my son.” Odin speaks with the authority of one born to rule. _As he was,_ Loki thinks, and he feels a crawl of bitterness inside him.

Thor is next to him. Then he is beside him. Then he gives him a push. “Go ahead,” he says. “Father would talk to you.”

“No.” The words are there, but he cannot speak them. “Who is he, that I should submit to him? He is not my Father, he is not my king. – He is nothing to me!” The words are there. They tremble on his lips. All the time, he is walking forward. He is walking. – Why can he not stop himself from walking? – And he is there, standing in front of Odin, All-Father. Loki straightens his shoulders and lifts his head high. He will not allow himself to kneel.

“My son, I have watched your actions since you have been in Midgard.” The old man rises. He comes down from his high throne, to stand side by side, with him. 

“Hugin and Mugin?” Loki wills complete indifference into his voice. He will not give this man the satisfaction of knowing he affects him. “They are good eavesdroppers.”

Odin nods. “They have done their duty. I call it not eavesdropping, to keep track of one who is serving a punishment though, my son. I needed to know when your obligation was completed.”

“My obligation...” He echoes the words, scarce aware he is doing it. His hands, his traitorous hands, go to the bracelets at his wrists, and he touches them, sliding them as he has so often done, up and down his arms.

“You have submitted to the authority of those put in charge of you. You have set your hand willingly, to the task of repairing what you yourself destroyed. You have turned away from an opportunity to destroy and to dominate...”

He is going to remove the seal, Loki realizes. The bracelets, so long hated, are going to be removed. Why then, does he feel no exaltation, but only the same dull thud of bitterness?

“…and you found a way to save one of your friends, out of love, and with no thought for yourself. You have indeed acted, my son, as a true Odinson.”

“Like a what?” Disorienting, the jumble of reactions that go through his head. “I will never be an Odinson,” he opens his mouth to say. Then, his mouth open, it hangs there; he gapes, as he sees Odin's bracelets disappear. One moment they are there, the next, they are gone... Simply gone... How is it that this bit of magic so discomposes him, who thought himself a master of magic?

Loki raises his arms. He can feel the power already. It tingles, blood returning to limbs too long immobilized. He can... What can he do? ...What _can't_ he do? 

Next to him, Odin smiles. “The bracelets' effect will be gone soon. Your magic will return to its normal levels. You deserve it son, you did well.”

“Son...” His lips are stiff. This whole fight about _who_ he is, about _what_ he is to All-Father still seems distant and far-away. He runs his hands up and down his wrists. The bracelets aren't there. They _aren't there_. His breath shudders in his throat, excitement warring with trepidation, and only very far away and behind it all, the old bitterness he's held for so long.

But it is this that comes out when he speaks. “You call me 'son'. Why? With Laufey dead, and at my hand, I cannot possibly still be of use to you. The Frost Giants will never trust me again. How do you expect to use me, old man?”

There is silence. – There is silence and, in the silence, he feels the magic flowing through his body, stronger now. He could vanish from here... He could... He could destroy something, and he wished to do it. – Loki begins to think the audience done. 

Then just as he readies himself to be dismissed from Odin's presence, the old man speaks. “That has weighted on you, hasn't it, son? If you knew,” he says.... “If words could tell, son, how sorry I felt that the Odinsleep should have come on me before I could say more...”

Sorry? His words make no sense. What is this, is it pity? Does the old man dare _pity_ him? “Save your words,” Loki mumbles. “What sort of pathetic weakling do you think me? Do you pretend your phrasing mattered more than the intent? You showed your intent well enough, didn't you? The throne was for your son. And what for me? I was to have brokered an alliance, and when there was no more hope of that, I could be discarded.”

“Nothing of the kind!” The old man sounds angry. He turns, brows drawn. It has taken all of five minutes for Laufeyson to anger him. “Son, adults _listen_. Are you still too much of a child...” He stops. Loki hears him draw a breath. “You have always been a mystery to me, son. I could see Thor's future well enough, it is true. He is the very pattern of a future King of Asgard, and has been since boyhood. With you though, it was different. I saw...”

He saw... In spite of himself, Loki feels excitement surge. “What did you see?”

Odin shakes his head, half turns away. “As to that, I know not. – I never knew.” Again, more silence. – Finally, “I saw greatness in you, son,” he says. “Great power, and great love ...and great danger too. There is much that is contained within you, son, but it is mixed, complicated. You are not the simple being that Thor is.”

“I am a Monster.” The words feel wrong now, but it is a subtle wrong, and he has no other words yet, to use. 

“You are more than your heritage, son.” Odin speaks as though he has not heard him. “Long have I thought about this, for I have had long to think about it, since you have been away from us. You are all that has gone together to make you. There is in you, the chaos of the Jotnar... – There is also the courage of the Aesir and the magic of the Vanir, a gift from your mother's people. Now...” He looks full at Loki. “Now too, I can see the simple loyalty that you have learned in Midgard. That too is part of what you are, son.”

It says everything, and it says nothing. The words are crowded dense with meaning, and they are meaningless. “Father...” In his confusion, he calls Odin the one word he swore he'd not use again. 

“Do I confuse you, son?” The old man laughs softly. “I will remember this moment. It is an achievement to confuse the God of Chaos.”

He confuses him only because his words make no sense. Loki thinks it, but he says nothing. He is beginning to look the fool in this exchange, and he would end it with his dignity intact.

“I would appreciate it if you dined with your family tonight, son, you and your friends.” There is something that sounds almost like appeal in Odin's voice. “But if you wish to eat in your quarters, I will understand.”

“I…” Loki swallows. His hands, he notices, are still on his wrists, so newly bared of the bracelets that sealed his magic. His heart... But what is in his heart? “I must think,” he says at last. “Pray allow me to leave you.”

“Of course.” Odin nods. If he is disappointed, Loki does not want to know it, and the old man's expression is smooth enough that he does not have to. He gestures, and the guards open the doors for Loki's departure. “You may return to your friends.”


	19. Loki, Finally With his Magic Unleashed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They can't help worrying a little, that he's going to run off on them as soon as he has his powers back. ...Even though the whole time, Tony knows he's way too awesome a kisser, and Bruce is too nice, for that ever to happen.

They're in a kind of a sitting room. A fancy sitting room, the one where they just met Loki's mother. There's some food, some wine. Thor's going at it like he hasn't eaten in days, but neither he nor Bruce is hungry. They're sitting on one of the big, gold chairs. – It _looks_ like gold, but it _feels_ like comfy plush; either this is magic at work, or Tony has got to find out the name of their upholsterer. – “Those birds.” He's got Bruce's hand in his. All the times he's laughed at couples who can't seem to keep their hands off each other, and now he's doing it himself. Bruce seems okay with it though. “Heckle and Jeckle,” he says, “or whatever their names are. They've seriously been watching everything Loki's done?”

Thor looks at him over an Asgardian sandwich. “You do not watch your prisoners on Midgard?”

Oh yeah that's right, Loki's a prisoner. He'd actually sort of forgotten, it's been so long since he acted like one. Tony shrugs. “We _watch_ them. We don't send them out into the world to act like everything's perfectly normal, and all the time we're spying on them.”

A laugh from Thor, and one of those condescending smiles. “That, my friends, is because you don't have Hugin and Mugin.”

Yeah, it probably is. If he came up with tech that mirrored what the birds do, he knows SHIELD would jump at it. Doesn't make it any less creepy, thinking about those birds watching the three of them together, all these months. “So, was it just Odin watching,” he says. “Or was it both of you? – Or all three of you? Did your mom watch too? How much did all of you see?”

Well he gets the smile off Thor's face at least. The look of confusion that follows though, shows he still doesn't have any clue why all this might be a problem. Total security state? Odin as Big Brother? No, it all just flies right on past him. “Father watches all that happens in the Nine Realms,” he says. “He is All-Father. It is his duty.”

_Oh yeah that's right, _Tony thinks. _I'd forgotten, I'm dating God's son._ Then right after that, _Damn, but Steve would be pissed at me for saying that!_ Okay, _a_ god's son. He's dating _a_ god's son. Guess total surveillance on the part of your father-in-law is just part of the deal.__

__“Okay.” He shrugs. “So Odin was watching Loki all this time. So he knows everything he did, and that's why he called him here. So how much did he share with you, Thor? How much do you know about what your brother's been doing?”_ _

__A flash of eagerness goes across the big guy's face. Yeah, Daddy pretty much keeps him in the dark all right, doesn't he?_ _

__Then he feels a little nervousness, sort of coming from Bruce sitting next to him. “I don't know how much Thor wants to know.” What he thinks Tony is going to tell him, is a good question. All the details of their sex life? Intimate information about that mole on Loki's back, right where his waist starts, and what Bruce did with it the other night? Has he got that much of a reputation as a blabbermouth?_ _

__Then, _oh yeah right,_ he thinks. _It's the Hulk thing. Bruce doesn't want me talking about that._ A pity. It's their best story. But it's not really the most important one, is it? So that's okay._ _

__“Father...” Thor's words come halting, like he's feeling his way. “He's told me what I need to know. – He told me that he is lifting Loki's punishment, and for deserving conduct.”_ _

__“You're his brother,” Bruce says. Is that really enough?”_ _

__It's not. That puppy-dog look of eagerness on Thor's face tells them both all they need to know about how much Big Brother wants to hear about the baby of the family. He and Bruce give it to him, right from the beginning, starting from the part where Thor stopped working clean-up duty himself, and went back to Asgard. Around the part where they all went to the Library together, – Still the most boring place in the world. No matter how much Bruce and Loki love it. – their throats get dry, so they get some wine. They keep on going. About the time they get to the press conference, Tony starts to feel hungry. He eyes the Asgardian sandwich-materials, which are starting to look pretty good._ _

__“The point is, it wasn't the rescue that mattered so much to us,” Bruce says. “Anyone can be a hero. You sort of get caught up in the moment. It's the way he keeps showing up every day and working that dull filing job. He does it because he cares about the clinic. Can you imagine Loki the way he used to be, caring about a bunch of mortals?”_ _

__“Although the hero-thing was pretty impressive.” Tony gets up and picks through the sandwich-fixings. They look even better from close up. “That Loki-suit I made is pretty powerful. To tell the truth, I was a little nervous, the first time he tried it out.”_ _

__Thor's face is longing. He _likes_ hearing good stuff about Loki. You can tell, he's just drinking it up. “You took a risk, Friend Tony, but why? How did you know Loki could be trusted?”_ _

__“How?” Tony gives Bruce a look. He points at the plate of food. Bruce shakes his head. – Silly Bruce; roast boar and wheaten bread (or whatever this stuff is) are _good_ together. – Then he brings his sandwich back to the sofa. He leans in against him comfortably and takes a bite. It saves having to explain that he really has _no idea_ how he came to trust Loki. It's just that one day he didn't, and then the next day he did. _ _

__“It was one night when I went out with Tony...” – One night? Which night does Bruce mean? – “Tony was coming on too strong, you know how he does...” – Okay, he thinks, that nails down which night he's talking about. Wait a minute, he “comes on too strong”? –_ _

__Thor nods._ _

__“It made me... Well, it made me _angry_ ,” Bruce says. “You know what happens to me when I'm angry. You know what the Other Guy did to Loki that time, too.”_ _

__He doesn't get the chance to hear Bruce talking about Hulk to outsiders very often, and Thor is an outsider, even if they are sort of brothers-in-law (or the next thing to it). It's kind of heart-warming. “Loki stayed,” Tony says. “That's what Bruce is getting at. He could have left, we would have understood. He had his safety to think about. But he stayed. He was thinking about our safety too.”_ _

__Thor's face is heart-breaking, a mix of longing and happiness. “He had no magic, no way to defend himself.”_ _

__“Yeah.” Bruce chuckles a little. “All the defending he was able to do the last time when the Other Guy got him.”_ _

__“Loki loves us,” Tony says. “And we love him. He's stood by us when he didn't have to. We'll stand by him, whatever... It's great if your dad lifts his punishment, but to us, it's already been lifted. Loki’s not a prisoner anymore, not to us, not to the people of Earth.”_ _

__It's a beautiful speech, one of his best. Pepper would be proud if he ever used that much eloquence for Stark Enterprises. Thor's face going all skeptical toward the end kind of mars it a little bit though. “You expect my brother to stay with you after he has his powers back?” says old Point Break, the buzzkill._ _

__“Not completely.” Once again, Bruce says exactly what Tony was thinking. “Maybe he will right away, maybe he won't. He'll come back to us,” he says. “And we'll be there, waiting for him.”_ _

__A longing look goes over Thor's face. He's been waiting for his brother to come back in his own way too, hasn't he? He opens his mouth, but before any of them can say anything more, the door opens._ _

__In walks Loki, with a confused look on his face, and his eyes going every minute or so, down to his wrists, and the conspicuous lack of magic bracelets there._ _

__“Loki!” Bruce is up right away and hugging him. “They’re gone?”_ _

__“Gone, yes...” If Daddy-Odin was expecting his little boy to be happy at getting his powers back, he's going to be feeling pretty disappointed right now. Loki just looks confused, disturbed. He keeps looking down at his wrists, then looking up, like he's got no idea what to do next._ _

__“I am proud of you, brother.” Thor goes over and gives him a clap on the shoulder, so hard it nearly sends him flying. Loki looks up with anger on his face, an anger that looks very, very familiar there. Then the look of confusion comes back._ _

__“Come here and sit down.” Tony pats the sofa next to him. Then it occurs to him, maybe Loki doesn't want to sit down. Maybe he wants... And there, he's stuck. What does Loki want? It doesn't look like he knows himself._ _

__But he comes and sits down, at any rate. And when Tony puts his arm around his shoulder, he feels some of the tension drain out. “Father...” – Father? Who is this “Father”? Hasn't Loki been swearing up and down ever since he came to Earth, that Odin is nothing to him, not his King or his Ruler, and certainly not his “Father”? – Loki's voice is stiff. The words jerk out like he's got no control over them. “F-Father said my p-pppp...”_ _

__His powers... Tony and Bruce don't interrupt. This is Loki's piece to say. – Whatever he's going to say._ _

__“He said my powers would return gradually. I ...I can feel them, I think.”_ _

__Tony wants to say “You know we love you whether you've got powers or not,” but even he knows Loki doesn't want to hear that._ _

__Loki lifts his hand. He makes a complicated little gesture, and a dish appears in his hand. Sparkly-white, sugary-looking little cookies appear. Something in his face relaxes A little laugh. “Kringler. Thor's favorite. I learned this spell...”_ _

__A big, golden-haired hand reaches down in between then to snag one of the Kringler off the plate. It's kind of an intrusion. Tony can't tell if Loki minds or not, though. Then there's the sound of chewing._ _

__“They are delicious as ever, brother.” Thor's voice, sounding unbelievably brotherly._ _

__Bruce takes one and turns it between his fingers. Little crumbs start flaking off right away, and soon Loki looks like he's been snowed on. “What were your favorites?”_ _

__It's the right question, you can tell by the real smile that starts (finally) on Loki's face. Instantly, like faster than it takes to say it, the white Kringler are gone, and something dark and spicy-smelling appears in their place._ _

__Bruce looks at the dark little cake that's suddenly in his hand. “Gingerbread?”_ _

__“It was a much more complicated spell to learn,” Loki says. “Because of the spicing.” A reminiscent laugh. “Thor said they were too spicy so I did this.” His lips move. Tony can't hear any words, but a moment later, the little cakes are covered in white frosting. “Your Midgardian 'chocolate' would also be good.” Loki's having fun now, finally. He whispers something again, and the spicy gingerbread's wearing a chocolate coating._ _

__“I'll take one of those.” Tony grabs a cookie and bites into it. “Midgard and Asgard go well together.” He squeezes Loki a little tighter. “But we knew that, didn't we?”_ _

__Loki looks at him, just a little quick, tense look. What's that on his face? Tony still can't tell. His Reindeer Games, who always acts like he knows everything, suddenly seems all gob-smacked and confused. He thinks about Natasha: What was it she said to Clint? “Cognitive readjustment...” Loki looks like he's been through one of those. Only not by getting smacked upside the head._ _

__“I am not of Midgard,” Loki says._ _

__Now it's Bruce who looks at Tony. There's a question in his brown eyes: “We're going to be losing Loki, aren't we?”_ _

___"How the fuck would I know,"_ Tony wants to say. _"I've never been good at keeping the people I love."__ _

__“Are you 'of' anywhere?” Bruce is choosing his words really, really carefully. “Where do you want to be 'of''”_ _

__Loki looks at him. After a while the confused look sort of melts off his face, and he smiles a smile that looks real. “In truth, I know not. It has never been my choice to make before.” He throws a quick look at Thor, who's following the whole discussion with that puppylike, “I want to be included,” look of his._ _

__“Thor,” Bruce says, “do you mind leaving?”_ _

__Quick nod of the big, shaggy blond head. “I can see you have a lot to talk about with your friends, brother.”_ _

__A flare of Loki's green eyes at the word “brother”; some things don't change just because Super-Daddy gives you your powers back. But all he says is, “We will see each other again at dinner, Thunderer.”_ _

__“We're eating dinner with your family?” Tony's got to ask it. Loki feels so tense he might snap apart, right there with his arm around him. He's practically vibrating, he's so tense. “You're sure you want to?”_ _

__With Thor gone the tension is draining away pretty quickly, though. Loki looks at him. He smiles. “It would make Mother happy. Do you mind, Tony? Bruce?”_ _

__What's there to say? Loki's not the only one that was gob-smacked, Tony thinks. He didn't get up this morning, expecting to see his boyfriend yanked back to Asgard for a meeting with Daddy, then with all his powers unleashed right after, so he can go wherever the fuck he wants to, in the whole Universe, and leave him and Bruce behind. “Dinner with the folks?” He can't even picture it. Eating with Big-Daddy Odin (who he hasn't even seen yet)? With who knows how many Asgardian gods and goddesses? ...Dinner, and then what? And then Loki flies away and leaves them? “Bound to be awkward. Why not? Let's get it over with.”_ _

__“This is what _you_ want, Loki?” Bruce is always good at this relationship shit. “You’re not tired, after having your magic brought back?”_ _

__Tony feels Loki's body relax some more. He's practically cuddling up to him and Bruce now. He gestures, and the plate of gingerbread disappears. “I am,” he says. “More tired than you can possibly imagine. But I will do this, before we go home. I will give Mother the chance to show her two new sons to Asgard.”_ _

__Her sons... Her two new... What?!? Tony sits up and stares at him._ _

__Loki's smile broadens. There's a flicker of Trickster playfulness in his green eyes. “Son-Tony and Son-Bruce. We cannot marry in Midgard I know, but surely we are family nonetheless?”_ _

__And they could marry elsewhere? Loki doesn't seriously know a world where a human, and a Frost Giant, and a Hulk could all tie the knot together? He hears a choking sound come from Bruce. “Of course we're family,” he just barely manages._ _

__“I wouldn't have it any other way.” Tony pictures it, the awkwardness: Well, he's never been scared away by any awkwardness before, has he?_ _

__“You're going to make us sit there and be stared at by all your relatives.” Bruce sounds like he's getting into the joke now._ _

__“Not _my_ relatives.” Loki, for his part, is positively grinning. “Thor's. And a bigger collection of muscleheaded want-wits you ne'er will see.”_ _

__“And your mother,” Bruce says, and gets a nod from Loki._ _

__“And Mother,” he says._ _

__“And then afterwards,” Tony just wants to add it. “Then we go home, right?”_ _

__Nods from both the others, but he can't seem to help pushing just a little bit more. “Together, right?”_ _

__And yes, they're going home together, home to _their_ Tower, with the repairs almost finished now, and their bedroom _s_ consolidated down to just one bedroom, one whole floor full of bedroom, plenty of space for blue Jotnars, or green Hulks, or Iron Men and Iron Reindeers, or whatever the hell else they can come up with. ...Their home. They'll share it with the Cap, who needs a place he can call home as well, but it's a big tower. Most of the time, they probably won't even see him._ _

__What's one little dinner with the relatives, Tony thinks? What's one dinner, with relatives he's just barely getting? It can't possibly be any worse than a meeting with Corporate, and who knows? Maybe the food will be good. ...One dinner. One night in an Asgardian palace that he can tell his grandkids about. – If he has any grandkids... If... What would the son of a Hulk or the son of a Frost Giant even look like anyway? – Then tomorrow morning, they fly-fly-fly straight home, by however they're going to get there. By the Einstein-Rosen Bridge, or by Loki's own magic, or whatever. The point is, they'll be home again. By this time tomorrow. Just him, and Loki, and Bruce. Which is the way it should be._ _


	20. The One That Ties Up All the Loose Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fourth of July, and everyone's using it to accomplish their own shit, a lot of stuff like working out problems with family, and asking ex-villains to join The Avengers, etcetera.

Everyone always talks about him having _all this power_.  Like, ohhh, here’s the great _Tony Stark_ , here’s the billionaire, the playboy.  Let the world bend to fit his every whim, let the oceans... -- What is it oceans do?  They go in and out, right?  Or is that tides?  -- Let the oceans  (or tides) go in and out on his command.  Let all the flunkies hang on his every word.

It’s not like that.  In reality, he mostly waits on everyone else.  Pepper says, “go there and attend that meeting,” he goes there and (if he remembers) he attends the meeting.  He goes into his workroom and he designs something kickass; half the time the board won’t okay it for production.  “It’s too risky,” they’ll say, or “Adamantium is too expensive for mass production, Mr. Stark.”  And workmen?  He might as well not even bother.  Like there was a teeny problem with the elevator right after they got back from Asgard.  He and Loki and Bruce were coming up after dinner.  Hulk wanted to come out just for a good-night kiss.  The walls got a little bit dented.  You do not want to hear the projections he was getting about how long it would take to fix it.

They finally ended up fixing it themselves.  No, not all of them.  Loki fixed it.  He just lifted his hand, he did a little fiddly thing with his fingers, like when he was making the gingerbread.  Then there was the elevator, good as new, with no more Hulk-elbow dents in the walls.  It was after that, that it occurred to them, that with a full-powered sorcerer living in the house, they didn’t have to wait on the workmen to come and finish renovations to the tower.  “One day.” -- It was Tony that said it. -- “Less than one day, probably...  But you’ll have to ask what everyone wants with their floors.”

All the Avengers get a floor. -- That’s been his plan ever since Corporate decided to make the move to Stark-Virginia permanent.  In other words, it’s been his plan since, like, Christmas. -- Even the ones of them who don’t stay there very often are going to have a floor.  Even Thor, who’s usually in Asgard, and spends all his non-working time here on Earth, in New Mexico with Jane.  Even Clint and Natasha, who like their own space too much to ever be really comfortable here with everyone else.  Even...  Well there’s a guy called Pym.  Apparently he’s some kind of super-scientist.  Fury talked him into setting aside one floor for him, even though he hasn’t nailed him down as a new Avenger yet.  He’s got a floor.  And his girlfriend too.  Hell, it’s a big tower.  So yeah, so Loki has to talk to everyone before he can magic in the rest of the renovations -- And Tony was maybe not 100% successful in explaining to Pym why he and Janet were going to get a floor in Avengers Tower, without spilling the beans about Fury’s plan, so now Fury and Pym are both pissed at him, so what else is new? --

...So Loki talks to them.  Then he does the fiddly thing a few more times.  Then after that they move in, and it’s perfect.  Steve’s back from Latveria (with some hair-raising stories about Doom-bots and probes; apparently Dr. Doom’s trying to replicate the Super Soldier serum).  He settles into his floor like it’s been his home all his life, no matter how close you are, you can’t hear him in the gym. You can’t hear his incessant swing music blasting out. – Who even knew you could blast swing music? It’s like, a contradiction in terms, like Granny driving her old Chevy to church at 90 miles an hour. --

Loki’s good at sound-proofing. This is a good thing, because it turns out, when Hulk gets cuddly, he also gets kind of _noisy_. Loki’s good at structural reinforcement too, which is good for obvious reasons. Hulk weighs something like a ton, Loki in Jotun-form isn’t all that much lighter. They can get together, -- Hell, they could probably _dance_ , if they wanted to, and wouldn’t that be a sight? – and everything’s fine, you can’t even feel their footsteps. Tony commented on this to Loki, by the way, and he was all smug. “I doubt the Chitauri army could make a dent,” he said. “I probably could not even throw you out a window.” Tony tried to get him to test it out (wearing the suit of course), but no go. So the true holding power of magical shatterproof glass remains a mystery to this day.

So they all settle in together: Him, and Loki, and Bruce (and Hulk)… And Steve, a couple floors down from all of them. They start getting comfortable. Bruce’s clinic is kaput, finally and completely, but Fury finds this guy over in the Bronx, who has a government contract to do research on the remains of the Chitauri, and he’s naturally all for getting help from someone with Bruce’s brains, who also had direct contact with them when they were here. Loki goes along. At first he does filing for them. After a while he starts joining them doing the research.

Stark Enterprises is bigger than ever, thanks to the Loki-Suit (among other things). With Loki’s powers back, he doesn’t need the suit any more of course, so it lives cozily in the archive at the Malibu house, along with all the other retired suits. Sometimes Tony visits them. Sometimes he takes the others. Most of the time, he’s pretty busy with his other project, though. He’s gotten really into arc reactor technology. He's not going to be responsible for putting any more weapons tech on the market, but the arc reactor has tons of peacetime uses. And right now with the government being so big on green jobs, he’s getting contracts all over the place. Corporate couldn't be more thrilled. And when Corporate's happy, Pepper's happy, and a happy Pepper means one less person Tony has to avoid when he goes out in the morning.

Mornings, right: Cap usually makes breakfast. There's like, the four of them, then whatever others show up. Fury's there a lot; he works pretty closely with Steve, and the rest of them have had to learn to get used to him. Pepper's there when she wants him for something, like a Board meeting or something. Since she's gotten to be friends with Steve, she always arrives in time to drink coffee with him before they have to leave. And Happy's here practically every morning, soaking up the free pancakes. 

Daytime, they go their separate ways. Bruce goes to his research. He says it's a relief to get out of health care, but it's hard to say he has really, considering he donates time practically every weekend at a free clinic in Newark. And Loki goes with him. – He goes with him to the lab during the week, and to the clinic on weekends. 

Is it disorienting to think about the would-be conqueror, head of the Chitauri Army, who said he was going to rule the Earth, trotting along to help immunize a bunch of kids on the weekends? Well remember, the guy next to him is a giant green rage monster, that's not exactly the easiest fit either, right there. People are complicated. You can be more than one thing at the same time. You also can't underestimate the... – This is going to sound really disturbing, coming from him. – ...You can't underestimate the power of love. There, he said it. If you want to get right down to it, Loki volunteers at the clinic because Bruce does, Tony thinks. It's like the kids he works with there are all little Bruces. – He used to go because he wanted to make Bruce happy, now he goes because in some way all the rest of the humans on Earth seem to be either little Bruces, or little Tonys to him, and that's why he cares about them.

...Okay, there it is. Who ever said Tony Stark couldn't be insightful? ~~Besides Pepper... And everyone else...~~ So yeah, there's their life right now: With him in green tech, and the others volunteering at clinics every two seconds, they're like the most positive citizens in the entire city. And then there's The Avengers, and right when they're ready to kick some ass or go nuts, is usually when Fury shows up with a job for them. 

So happy ending, right? Who'd ever have thought Tony Stark could manage one? – As Pep keeps mentioning, practically every time she visits. – Tony's actually a little more surprised at Loki, when he thinks back and remembers how depressed he was, when he first showed up at the Tower. ...And Bruce. He had that tight, bottled-up thing going on, where it felt like he was scared to say boo, for fear the Hulk would pop up. You wouldn't have laid odds for him having a happy ending either, but he's done it. Along with the rest of them. 

And May blurs into June, and then June blurs into July. Loki has cold feet in bed. Literally. -- Actually, he's cold all over, it's the Jotun thing, but it comes in really handy, now it's starting to get hot at night. -- Bruce likes to cuddle. And who really likes to cuddle, is the Hulk, and what's really cute is that sometimes Tony will wake up in the morning, and there he is, old Big-Green-and-Pronoun-Deficient, with human-form Loki looking like a teddy bear in his arms. And then they all get up and have French toast, and some of the coffee, the proper coffee he's finally taught Steve to make. 

And now here it is the Fourth: Steve's doing an all-Avengers barbecue on the roof, and Pep's gotten them a permit for a big, Stark Enterprises fireworks show, and Happy and Fury (of all people) are taking care of that. Everyone's going to be here tonight, but Thor showed up yesterday, hoping to spend time with his brother. Loki was prickly about it. Thor was droopy. Things have gotten a little better between them since the visit to Asgard, but it's still not the best brother-relationship in the world, and when they sat down to Steve's meatloaf last night, the entire dining room screamed with tension. Meatloaf plus tension, by the way: Not the tastiest dinner combination. Hopefully there won't be a lot more tension to ruin the burgers tonight.

So, it's afternoon. Bruce and Loki should be here, but their friend in the Bronx had a theory about Chitauri bones he wanted to try out, and naturally, it couldn't wait until the Fifth. Cap's on the roof cleaning the grill. – Brand new grill, but he's cleaning it. Says they pick up dust when they're boxed, and he's not serving dust-flavored burgers. Happy and Fury are out getting fireworks, and Rhodey hasn't shown up yet. Right now, Tony seems to be the only one here, and that's pretty boring when it's a holiday and you're supposed to be having fun. 

...So he comes into the penthouse. And he's, like, the only one here. He goes over to the fridge and grabs a beer. Then he goes over to the sofa. Turns out Thor's there. He's usually not easy to miss, but he's being really, really quiet right now.

He misses his brother. “Hey, Point Break.” Tony waves the beer. “You want one?”

Can you have a _glum_ smile? Thor's got one right now. “A beverage, Friend Tony? Something cold to drink, on this very hot afternoon? Thank you, I will have one.”

Tony grabs him one. He brings it over. Then, rather than beating around the bush all afternoon, he gets right to the point: “You were looking for Loki, weren't you?” 

A nod. A _glum_ nod. “I asked the JARVIS servant, but he could not tell me where to find him.”

Oh yeah. That would be because now that he's got his magic back, Loki likes making himself undetectable. He was doing it for the SHIELD cameras too, until Tony told him Fury was going to rope him in to build stealth weaponry if he wasn't careful. Tony and Bruce haven't been able to decide yet if it's cute of him, or really really irritating.

Tony gulps some beer. “Your brother likes cloaking himself. He's a regular Romulan about it.”

“A cloak?” Thor, who had half the beer in him already before Tony spoke, looks at him, confused. “I do not understand the allusion.”

Yeah, he wouldn't. That's what you get for talking like an Earth-nerd, with an Asgardian. “Like a cloak of invisibility,” Tony says. “He makes it so JARVIS can't see him.”

Thor nods. “He did the same in Asgard. It used to anger Heimdall.”

Heimdall? “The big guy that let us in on the bridge?”

Another nod. “The guardian who protects our fair realm. It was how Loki brought the Frost Giants into Asgard. – Here is what I do not understand, my friend...” All at once he's staring at him. One minute he's finishing his beer, the bottle like a toy in his big, Asgardian fist. The next minute, Tony's being pierced by his blue gaze. “My brother used to long for a throne. He craved power. – He wanted to be King of Asgard, even though it was understood by all that I was the heir.”

Understood by all... Funny how perspective changes a story.

“What changed?” Thor asks. “How is that he is happy now, as a mere private citizen, when before, being _my brother_ , and Prince in his own right, meant nothing?”

This is one of those times when Tony wishes Bruce were here. He's better with this feeling stuff. It's one of those times when he wishes he were a better listener himself. If Loki's talked about Thor and being King and all that once, he has to have talked about it a million times. But he must not have been listening well enough, because he doesn't have a clue what to say to Thor now.

So he looks at his empty beer bottle. “You want another of those?” A big nod from Point Break of course. One teeny beer isn't enough for an Asgardian appetite. Tony goes and gets him one. While he's up he gets himself a second, even though he's not halfway finished with his first.

Then when he comes back though, Thor's still on the same subject. He takes his beer, gulps half of it in one swallow, and sets the bottle down. Then he looks back at Tony. “My brother's life here is so simple, whereas before he could not make it complicated enough it seemed. Do I ask too much, Friend Tony, when I ask that you explain what has changed?”

_No, you just ask the impossible. You ask for Tony Stark to be articulate about feelings. Talk to Pepper if you want to know how well that works._ Tony looks down at the bottle in his hands. He'd like to help the big guy out here. He gets the feeling both the brothers will be happier if he can make their relationship better. He's doing this for Loki as much as for Thor, isn't he? ...As much as you can say he's doing it at all.

“I don't think your brother ever really wanted to be King.” Even while he's saying it, Tony thinks how crazy it sounds. What, Mr. Kneel-Before-Me-Puny-Mortals didn't want to be King? He didn't want power? As he says it though, it feels like it makes sense. “I think he wanted to be noticed. If his dad had been a physicist, he'd have wanted to be the best physicist in the world. If his dad had been an industrialist...” -- Wait, no, too close to home with that last bit... – “What I mean,” he says, “is that Odin is King, so Loki grew up wanting to be King too. Only you were going to be King... – And let's face it, you're also kind of an attention-hog, Thor.”

“An attention... _hog_...” Big frown, on Thor's usually-friendly Asgardian face. He looks at Tony... He's going to take offense, isn't he? Tony's got just enough time to wonder if he was really really stupid, making personal remarks to a Norse warrior like this, before he opens his mouth again. Then he does: “Your words make no sense, Friend Tony,” Thor says. “You say _I_ have been acting like a pig, but it was _Loki_ who broke Father's laws. How do those two things fit together? Why would one man acting badly make the other do so as well?” Tony's halfway relieved that apparently he's not going to be in for some Asgardian clobbering; halfway, he's a little horrified at how he seems to be turning into Thor's guru on all matters Loki-related.

He drinks some beer. Stalls for time. Thor meanwhile, finishes his own beer. Without waiting for an invitation, he grabs the other full one off the table. “You are saying my brother imitated my own piglike behavior....” Gulp, gulp, gulp, not much left of that third beer now. “I used to be arrogant and war-hungry, it is true” Thor says. “I believed I was worthy of my beloved Mjölnir, but in reality, I wasn’t worthy at all, and Father rightfully banished me.” One more gulp, beer's gone; he sets the bottle on the table with the others. “I never thought about the lessons I was teaching Loki with my behavior.” He looks at Tony again, and now his face is sad. “I am the one who taught him to behave so arrogantly, aren't I?”

Is he? Is that the point Tony was trying to make? He's ... _this close_ to shrugging; he is totally clueless here. But he holds back. Thor's doing a pretty good job of figuring this out for himself. Far be it for Tony Stark, the world's most insensitive billionaire, to get in his way. 

“Loki had to learn the same lesson I did,” Thor says. “It just took him longer because of ...because of the things he saw in the Void.” His face goes bleak as he says that. Then he looks at Tony. “Did my brother ever tell you about what happened to him, after he fell from the Bifrost?”

A shake of the head. This one, at least, Tony can answer for sure.

“He told us only a little of it,” Thor says. “At the trial. Father was moved, I could tell. Almost, it was enough to make him forgo punishing Loki at all... But he had committed enough crimes before he fell, to be still deserving of punishment.”

“I... Uh...” Tony Stark, the brilliant conversationalist.

Thor grabs all their empty bottles. – Thor! Grabs all their empty bottles! – He takes them into the kitchen and dumps them into the recycling bin the way Bruce likes. Then he comes back. “You make me feel ashamed, Friend Tony. I have been a poor role model indeed, to my brother. He must have thought, because Father seemed so proud of me, that such behavior as mine was the proper way to win approval. What he does not know, is that Father and I are e'en closer, now that I have learned humility.”

Father... Closer... Tony tries to picture Loki being best friends with the gruff old man in the eyepatch that he met at dinner, the night he was in Asgard, and his brain sort of dies. “Yeah” he mutters. “They'll be best friends after that, probably.”

Only the sarcasm's wasted on Thor of course, who looks at him with a longing expression. “You think so? That would be a happy result, would it not?”

“Uh... Yeah...”

One thing anyway, is Thor seems energized just by their having had the conversation. Whatever else he's done, Tony's managed to cheer a guest of his up, and that's got to be good. And maybe Loki won't mind too much, if his brother takes him aside later on in the evening for a nice talk about sibling relationships and how he should have been a better role model. ...And then again, maybe Tony'd better watch out that he doesn't wake up with a bilgesnipe in his bed one morning. He finishes the last of his now, very warm beer. He sighs, and takes the bottle to the recycling bin in the kitchen. 

Upstairs, he finds Steve standing back and looking at the huge, shiny grill Tony got for the barbecue. 

“Nice, isn't it?” Tony says. 

Steve nods, but his expression is a little intimidated. “I could fit burgers for a whole battalion on here. – How many people did you say were going to be here tonight?”

“How many?” Vague shrug. Precise numbers are for tech-projects. Tony's just sort of invited all the likeable people he's seen, the past week or so. ...And Fury. “Like, five or so?”

Steve's turned the “Hands Off My Sexy Behind” chef's apron Tony got him, inside-out, so the words don't show. He's got a big oven mitt, and a spatula big enough to turn a dinosaur. “Can't be. There's five, just with us and Thor.”

“I dunno.” Another shrug. “Ten, maybe?” Awkward questions: Steve’s got that same knack Pepper has, for always wanting to pin him down on the exact details he's not sure about. Tony gravitates over to the huge ice chest he's had brought up here. “Enough for the food?” 

Steve rolls his eyes. – Yeah, guy's _just_ like Pepper; they could be twins. – “Well you've got enough _food_ for a battalion too. I'll just prepare for 1,000, why don't I?”

“Yeah, you do that.” – _Major fail, Stark._ Tony gives his best smarmy-grin. “What can I help with?”

Huge, irritated sigh from Steve. “You might bring the condiments up here. We'll need those.” 

Condiments, yeah. Need those. “The catsup and mayo and stuff, right?”

“NOT THE MAYO! You have to keep that cold.” Steve huffs another sigh. “Oh never mind, Tony. I'll just ask Thor.”

He'll ask Point Break instead of him. The ultimate burn. A guy could really get his feelings hurt up here. Tony grabs a beer out of the cooler. He wanders over to the table, where Steve's got one of those plates set out, with the olives and pickles and shit on it, like Grandmas always make. He grabs an olive, then another one. He looks over at Steve: No, he probably wouldn't be amused by the thing where you put the olives over the tips of your fingers that Tony used to do when he was growing up. Then right before the irritation-vibes start getting to him, thank god, Tony hears the ping of the elevator.

Here's Pepper now, with Happy right behind her. “Thanks for inviting me, Tony.” She gives him one of those just-friends kind of hugs and goes over to look at Steve's grill. Tony hears noises coming from them: “How many?” “Figure 15, 20 at the most.” “Funny. He's got 100 pounds of meat...” And then from both of them, “ _Tony_...”

“Wait'll you see the fireworks show we've got planned.” Happy's a more satisfactory guest. He grabs a beer out of the cooler and gestures with it. “Nick had some really good ideas.” Gulp, gulp, gulp, down the hatch goes the Budweiser, and then out comes one of those loud guy-burps. Good thing Pepper isn't watching. “Guy can really think out of the box.”

_Fury_. Thinks _out of the box_. ...Well making a team out of a green rage-monster, and an egocentric billionaire, and some assassins does sort of fit, doesn't it? ...Hey, who knows, maybe he'll want Loki on the team too, now he's turned good.

The elevator pings again. Bruce comes out with his arm around a brown-haired woman, about Pepper's age. The smell of _nerd_ coming off her is strong.

“Tony, look who I found downstairs!” Bruce comes over and gives him a hug. “You didn't tell me you'd invited Betty.”

He hadn't known she'd come. Betty's apparently, been dating a guy called Talbot. When he talked to her, she'd said they might have plans.

“For you...” Tony brushes a kiss across Bruce's cheek. 

“Well I love you for it.” Bruce gestures toward the elevator. “Loki'll be up in a minute. Thor grabbed him when he came in.”

“Thor.” Tony can't help looking over at the elevator. “Yeah, he was talking to me about Loki earlier.” Tony's got qualms here, serious qualms. There's a lot of distrust between the brothers. And thinking back to the invasion, they both can get pretty violent. “I ...don't think he quite gets it yet, but his heart's in the right place.” 

Bruce just laughs. “Sounds like a certain billionaire I know.” He kisses Tony again, squeezing him tight just for a minute. “You can't control everybody, Tony. They'll work it out. – Clint and Natasha here yet?”

“Naw. Pep's here, and Happy. – And Steve just finished telling me I don't know the first thing about cooking burgers.”

“That's because you don't.” Bruce wanders over toward the cooler, Tony and Betty trailing along behind him, sort of like little, lost ducks.

“Thanks for the invitation, Mister Stark.” Betty's got that same I'm-lost-when-I'm-outside-a-lab that Bruce has. Her glasses are just a little slidey on her nose, and her hair's falling down out of the bun she wears it in a teeny bit. It makes you want to hug her. Just like Bruce.

“I'm just sorry your boyfriend couldn't come.”

Betty smiles at him. “I'm not. He wouldn't have known anybody. I know Bruce at least.” She bends, grabs a Diet Coke out of the cooler. Cute little butt on her too. ...Just like Bruce. Then she turns back, and Tony's looking into her serious, brown eyes. “I heard about what happened in Virginia. That's why I came today. I wanted to meet the men who cared enough about Bruce to fight my father to a standstill.”

“So he is standing still?” Tony glances over at Bruce. He's talking to Steve about the grill. He looks back at Betty. “I mean, just in case, if there were another Hulk-out... What would happen?”

Betty turns, so neither of them is angled Bruce's way. Smart girl, she knows how to discuss sensitive issues. “Hulk's covered by Avengers Protocol right now. As long as that doesn't change...” She throws Tony a sharp glance. “You still got those two suits?”

“I've got _my_ suit. Loki's got something better than that, now.”

“Yeah.” Betty smiles. “I heard. Listen, if it makes you feel better, he didn't look upset when the other one – Thor, right? – ...When Thor grabbed him when we came in. I don't think there's going to be a fight.”

“Better not be. I just got this tower fixed.”

There's a ping of someone else arriving, and Host-Tony's called away to greet Clint and Natasha (in each others' arms, and looking super-cute), and Director Fury and Maria Hill right behind them. As he turns away, Tony hears Betty's last comment: “From what Bruce said, Loki can fix it...”

Yeah. Considering how fast he did all the renovation, he totally could. When you get down to it, it's actually Loki's _heart_ Tony's worried about, more than the tower. That doesn't fix as easily. –

“Director Fury! And Agent Hill... – Maria. Glad you could make it.”

“Stark.” Casual isn't even in Fury's repertoire. Here it's the Fourth, the one day on earth for relaxing and letting loose, and here he is, with his face as stern as usual. He leans close and says in an undertone: “SHIELD wants to know the whereabouts of the Loki-suit.”

Like it's their business. ...Not that it matters any more. Now Loki's got his powers back, Tony'll be generous. “It's in Malibu,” he says. “On display with my other ones.”

“And Loki?” A little human emotion starts to show around the edges. “Is it true he's got his powers back?” Fury looks a little ...uncomfortable. 

Tony's the rescuer all around, isn't he, the guy that makes grumpy SHIELD Directors feel better about everything? “Loki's given up being evil for Lent.” A sharp glance. Too much humor for him? Okay fine, we'll try that again: “He's not going to do anything, Fury. He just wants a quiet life with me and Bruce.”

Optimist-Fury pushes it. “Would he be a defender, do you think?”

A “defender”? Like would he fight alongside The Avengers? Just for a moment, Tony pictures it. He imagines Loki side-by-side with him and Steve and Hulk, clearing away the bad guys. ...Then he pictures Thor showing up, and the two of them go off to quarrel with each other, and meanwhile the Earth gets destroyed. It kind of spoils the image. “Maybe ...If he can get along with his brother for long enough.”

Tony sees Fury throw a look over at the cooler. Then as if he was reading his mind, Clint comes over and shoves a beer into his hand. Good SHIELD-employee, Clint. Fury nods thanks. Then he looks back at Tony. “They're doing okay downstairs,” he says. “Thor and Loki, I mean. – You really care about him, don't you?”

“Yeah.” There is a profound _weirdness_ about discussing feelings with the Director of SHIELD. Not “we've got a man that needs rescuing, are you going to be able to get him all right?” But _feelings_... “Bruce too,” Tony says.

Fury nods. “Bruce makes sense. It's still hard for me to picture 'caring' and 'Loki', in the same mental image. – I guess you've seen more of him than I have, though.” He cracks open his beer, takes a drink.

There comes Happy over and claps him on the shoulder. “My fireworks buddy! You ready to put on a show?”

They move away. “You got the mortar?” Tony hears one of them say. Then, “Something-something palm display, something-something-something chrysanthemums...” Nick Fury's new career, as co-pyrotechnical expert for Stark Enterprises. He wanders over toward Clint and Natasha, but they don't need him, they only have eyes for each other. There's Bruce, busy as hell with Betty. – And over by the grill, Pepper and Steve are still doing just fine together. This party's just about to get a li-iii-tle boring...

Then ping, goes the elevator again, and in come Asgard's Battling Brothers. They're talking. No raised voices, no one threatening to kill the other one. Tony moves closer.

“Friend Tony!” Thor sees him, comes forward, and grabs him in a big hug. “You see, I found my brother.”

Yeah, there's Loki right behind him. Tony looks over and catches his eye. Loki gives him a quick eye-roll.

“Your words of advice were good my friend,” Thor says. “My brother and I had a talk.” He looks over at Loki. “I hope we understand each other better.”

Loki looks back. For a minute, they're looking at each other. There's longing on both their faces. Then, in kind of a crazy-nice way, they both relax, and they're smiling at each other. 

With Thor's brawny, Asgardian arms off his shoulders, Tony goes over to Loki for some skinny, Jotunn cuddles. He leans close. “It was okay?”

“Thor's 'talk'?” Loki's lips are tickly against his ear. “He _asked_ me if I wanted to talk. And when it was my turn, he _listened_.” He looks over at Thor. Incredibly, his smile is still there. “In truth, the Thunderer has made much progress.”

Thor's watching Loki too, and when he hears his words, he relaxes a little, and his own smile widens. “I have only one brother, and we have been too long estranged.”

“Because of you.” That note in Loki's voice, what is it? He sounds almost ...playful. 

Thor for his part, shakes his head. “Nay, brother.” He laughs. Then the laughing stops; when he continues, his voice is serious. “Because of both of us.” 

Loki nods. “In truth, we both must make changes.” He looks around. Then he looks back at his brother. “But you will want to greet your friends. – _Our_ friends. – Remember to compliment Steve on his 'burgers'. He is most proud of them.” He leans closer to Tony. “You meanwhile, will tell me what has transpired, while I have been delayed.”

Bossy little thing, isn't he? “Yes, your Princeliness.” Tony gives him a squeeze. “You got an invitation to be an Avenger.” As they talk, he heads Loki over toward the table with the food. “Fury says since you're around all the time anyway... – And since you changed your name to nice...”

Loki laughs. “I have done nothing of the kind. I am as evil as ever.” 

“Yeah, you were so evil.” He was though, wasn't he? Or he was just really, really fucked-up maybe; he was a kid, that had gotten in with a bad crowd. It's kind of hard to keep track now.

Loki's nod brushes hair against Tony's cheek. “I was.” He grabs a burger, and puts it on a plate. “You and Bruce gave me the chance to change. I will never forget that.”

Rare sincerity, from his snarky God-of-Lies boyfriend. It twists something inside his heart. Tony squeezes him very tight for a second. Then he looks around at the food. He grabs some condiments. “See, this is the mustard. No burger is complete without it. And here's the relish. This stuff is an abomination. Whoever brought it should be taken out and shot.”

Loki rolls his eyes. “I have eaten burgers before.” He grabs the catsup, the mustard, the pickles. “This is what they use at the McDonalds, is it not?” 

“Yeah, and then they shove them under a heat lamp for 15 minutes. Don't forget that.” Tony pushes the chopped onions toward Loki. “Here, McDonalds uses these too. – Do me a favor, okay? Don't tell Steve you turned one of his beautiful burgers into a Mickey D's special.” 

Bruce comes over. He slides a cold beer into Loki's hand. “All that talking downstairs. It had to have made you thirsty.” 

Tony tries the puppy-eyes. “And one for your other boyfriend?” 

“Get your own.” Bruce's smile takes the sting out of the words. “So, do you _want_ to talk about what happened with you and Thor?” Tony hears him say, as he goes over to the cooler.

Murmur-murmur of answer from Loki. Then, as he comes back again, he sees them share a kiss.

It's starting to get dark now, but Happy's said he and Fury aren't even going to _think_ of sharing their beautiful fireworks-gorgeousness with the world until it's pitch-black dark all over the city. – Like New York ever gets that dark. – Gives them all lots of time to guzzle beer and hang out in the meantime, at any rate. – Then over by the salad bowl, he sees Natasha talking to Betty. And then up comes Fury and grabs Loki. 

“Is that what I think it is?” Bruce says.

“He wants him to be an Avenger? Yeah.” Tony looks at the two of them, walking away together. Loki's wearing this scruffy old t-shirt with a Doraemon on it. It's not one of his; he must have stolen this one from Bruce (Loki's a terrible clothes-mooch). Fury's in his usual leather coat, despite the heat. Tony looks at Bruce. “Weird, huh?”

Bruce looks back, with a serious, kind of a fond expression on his face. “Why?” 

“I dunno. Because we started out fighting him maybe?” 

Bruce shrugs. “SHIELD started out fighting Hulk too.” 

Bruce has a little smear of mustard right under his lower lip. Tony leans close. He's going to wipe it away, then he just kisses it away instead. “It's hard to remember now. Was he really as evil as all that?”

A snort of chuckled laughter from Bruce. “Oh, he was evil, all right.” He looks over at Loki, deep in conversation with Fury on the opposite end of the roof. “Interesting that Fury should pick now, to tell him.”

“Is it? Why?” There's a little mustard right above Bruce's upper lip; he could kiss that away too. 

“Means he's confident.” This time Bruce kisses him. “Because he's going to have to start the fireworks display in a minute.”

“Anyone ever tell you you're a genius, Dr. Banner?” There's a cough from in back of them, and he and Bruce jump apart. 

“Not intruding.” It's Clint, with a paper plate in his hands. “Wanted watermelon. – You guys ever consider finding a _private_ place to do that?” He follows their gaze and sees Loki and Fury together. “What's up with that?”

Clint of all people, is going to love this. “We're getting a new Avenger, I think.” 

And the natural, predictable, irritated snort. “ _Loki_? Seriously?” 

“Makes sense.” That's Natasha. Also with a paper plate in her hand. She's going after the brownies. “That much power, he's got to be affiliated with someone. Better us than our enemies, wouldn't you say?”

Tony can't help staring. “You're really okay with this? – What was it he called you?” 

“A 'mewling quim'.” She's not just okay with it, she's actually amused. “And yes, I know exactly what that means. He'll hardly be the first male chauvinist I've ever worked with, _Mr. Stark_.”

A snerking sound comes from Clint. “Burn.”

Bruce looks nothing but amused too. “Well you did ask her.”

“If you think that's the worst thing I've ever been called... But I'm on good behavior here. – Clint's right, let me take you someplace private and ravish you, Dr. Banner.”

“Without Loki?” Bruce isn't moving away. Tony can feel the tiredness all through him, like he could drop right where he is, but it's a _good_ tiredness, like the stuff he got done was stuff he wanted to do. And he's not moving away. For two cents, Tony would throw him over his shoulder and carry him back to their room. ...And if he wouldn't probably drop him in the elevator.

“You think I'm heavy, try carrying Hulk.” That's practically a kissy-face, Bruce is wearing. 

Tony kisses it on general principles. “How did you know what I was thinking?” 

“One, I'm psychic.” Bruce puts up one big scientist-finger. “And two your arms tightened, and I saw you look over at the elevator.” He puts up another. “You were wondering if Other Guy would come out and squash you flat while you tried to push the buttons.”

Yeah, he so totally wasn't. “The prize for being psychic is you get to be ravished by Tony fuckin' Stark.” Someone else comes up behind them – Damn, crowded party. – and Tony jumps away from Bruce again. “And a burger,” he says. “You also get a burger. Cap knows how to cook ‘em just right.”

“Yes he does.” Speak of the devil, and there he is: It's Cap, and he's got the platter with the last of the hamburgers on it. He puts one of his beautiful burgers on one plate, then puts another one onto another plate. “Pepper Potts: Is she taken, do you know?”

Tony's actually dated her himself. She dumped him because she couldn't handle all his wonderful awesomeness. ...And because she got tired of him spending 17 hours at a time in the workroom. He's seen her dating various Saudi princes and Canadian steel magnates and things since then, but it never works out. She's too much of a Type A personality herself, is how it looks to him. Maybe she is ready for a nice, steady guy like Steve, though. “She's too old for you,” he says. “You were what, 18, 20 when you got frozen?” 

Steve rolls his eyes. “I was 25. And I like older women. – Listen, I know you two used to be an item. If this is a problem for you...”

“She's single. ...I think. She gets mad if she thinks I'm keeping track. She couldn't do better than a guy like you, Steve.” Tony throws a look over at the class-act redhead, who sometimes seems to run Stark Enterprises all by her gorgeous lonesome. “If she dumps you, you're welcome to come bunk with Bruce and Loki and me.”

Punch of a big, Captain-America-fist on his shoulder (Cap doesn't know his own strength). “Man-whore.” ...At least he's finally figuring out Twenty-First Century slang, though. He wanders off toward Pepper with his two burgers.

Tony turns back to Bruce. “Now where were we?”

Bruce's brown hair is messy. His brown eyes are full of sparkles. Behind them and sort of in the distance, Tony hears a vague popping sound that tells him Hap's finally decided it's dark enough for the fireworks. There's more interesting fireworks going on in Bruce's eyes, though. _Much_ more interesting fireworks. “We were at the part where we waited for Loki, and you acted like a host at your party.”

A kiss, right on the tip of a Bruce-nose. “Ooo don't know me vewwy well.” Another kiss... – It's officially dark now, Hap and Fury say so. No reason to hold back. – “I'm Tony fuckin' Stark, I never act like what I'm supposed to act like.” 

“And I'm Bruce fuckin' Banner...” Soft tickle on the tip of Tony's nose... – Were those Bruce's lips? They're gone again before he can be sure. – “And if you cross me, I might get smash-y.”

“Funny, the last time Hulk was out, smashing was _not_ what he wanted to do...” There's a soft throat-clearing noise in back of them, and Tony jumps away from Bruce _again_. “Dammit!” He turns around and glares. “Can you guys just fuckin' stop that?”

A pair of green Loki-eyes shine catlike right back at him, above a smug-but-bemused Loki-smile. “Your Director Fury wants me to be an Avenger.”

“Yeah, we heard.” Cute-Bruce gravitates right back to Tony's arms like iron to a magnet. He puts out an arm to pull Loki close too. “You going to do it?”

Loki moves closer and lets Bruce’s arm slide around his waist. He shrugs, his arms going up and down against Tony's. “I don't know. I fear I must.” He tries for grumpiness. “Your Director Fury told me SHIELD would not have a peaceful moment, with me in Midgard and unaffiliated.” He pouts.

Tony kisses it away. “You're a good man.” More kisses. “So protective of SHIELD.”

Sulky, pretend-pouty voice from his boyfriend (one of his boyfriends): “I could not have them watching my every move.”

And more kisses. “Of course not.” Tony looks up at the sky, where Happy and Fury's rainbows of light are exploding, one after another. He looks around the rooftop, where his guests are all watching, or busy with their own things. “You think they'll notice if we leave?” 

“Who?” He's got a hot, cuddly scientist in one arm, and a hot, cuddly Frost Giant in the other. It's the scientist who asks the question, looking around first, then looking at him with an amused look behind his glasses. “You mean Steve, who's holding hands with Ms. Potts over there? Or Clint, who's in the garden with Natasha?” 

Loki snakes a look over at the elevator. Then he smirks at Bruce. “He means your friend Betty. Who left.” 

Their three-man embrace is wonderfully cuddly, but there are few too many clothes here. It's too hot for so many clothes. ...And there are other reasons. “So in other words, you're saying they won't notice?”

“We were saying we wondered why you hadn't dragged us to the elevator already.” There's a smug, teasing look in Loki's green eyes. “We fear you're losing your touch.”

“Unless we're going now?” Now Bruce snakes a look over there. “Seriously, if you guys keep wasting time, I'm going to let Hulk out and he can drag you.”

“He won't.” The darkness just keeps getting darker and darker. The fireworks keep on popping. Tony wonders how many are still left to go... Then he wonders if it matters, since Steve is still here to say good-bye when the guests leave. “He'll stop and eat all the hamburgers first.” Over toward the elevator they go. The three of them, hand-in-hand the way they're supposed to be. “And that'll take all night.” Push the button, ping goes the elevator, and the doors open.

“Hulk doesn't eat hamburgers.” In they go, the scientist, and the engineer, and the sorcerer. “Hulk's a vegetarian.”

And into each others' arms they go again, all three of them. “Seriously?” Tony says.

Bruce grins. “Of course not. It's not just Tricksters who can lie, you know.”

And the doors close, and the elevator starts to move down. “We're better at it.” Loki's a hot, snuggly ball in his arms. ...And Bruce's arms. 

...And Loki's reinforced walls come in very handy, when Hulk decides to come out for some of the action. And Tony has just a teeny bit of worry when Loki goes Jotun. “Listen,” – Jotun-kisses are really, really cold. Like drinking peppermint schapps right out of the freezer. – “How much weight did you design this thing to carry?”

More Jotun-kisses. And a smug Jotun-smile. “Enough.” Jotun-nuzzle that practically freezes his neck off. “You aren't worried?”

Ping of the elevator. Hulk's off first, and he's hauling the other two of them, one over each shoulder, down the hall and into their bedroom. “Worried?”

A plop, and Tony fuckin' Stark lands ass-first on the bed. Another, larger plop, and that's Loki landing right next to him. Then, a big whump, that's the Hulk jumping in the middle of them. “No, Loki, I'm not worried.” Not worried at all.


End file.
